Hogan's Heroes: The Cowardly Colonel
by Basketballgirl Kaitlin
Summary: When Hogan suffers a stroke, he loses his ability to speak, and another colonel comes to fill in for him temporarily. But when the colonel proves to have the courage of the Cowardly Lion, Hogan's operation and the lives of his friends come into jeopardy. Especially when Hogan's OWN life is suddenly put in danger.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

Kalina sat at the table of barracks two with Hogan by her side and a plate of chocolate sandwich cookies before her. A tall, cold glass of milk sat slightly to the left of the plate as she dunked a cookie in and took a bite. Seeing her smile, the colonel gently rubbed her back in response. The little teenager was recovering still from her most recent mission and had been excused from joining Newkirk and LeBeau for tonight's assignment. Though she had met success easily, she had almost been captured by the Gestapo on the way back to her father's camp. She had even been stricken half the night from horrific nightmares of the men who wore black. Many of them with a tall, demonic looking man murdering Hogan and her father before being tortured herself. Klink had to bring her to his room for the rest of the night due to waking up to her crying and thrashing around in her own bed. As a result, Hogan had given the orders for her to remain in camp that evening to recover and relax.

Kalina licked her lips and turned to look up at her commander, who had become another papa to her, and smiled a bit more.

"These are good...what did you call them again?" She asked Hogan.

The American smirked.

"Oreos," he said.

"Oh. Where do you get them from?"

"That's a secret for me to know and for others to never find out. Why do you think you and Kinch are the only ones I give these to?"

The small Klink giggled softly and took another bite of her cookie. When she swallowed, she frowned and looked back up at Hogan.

"Colonel Hogan," she began. "Are you mad at me? That I was too scared to go sit in on that Gestapo meeting tonight?"

"No. You experienced a very horrific situation last night. It's alright to be afraid once and awhile. The Gestapo is a group of people you don't want to poke a stick at. Just remember they're not too different from Hochstetter is. You're not scared of _him_. Just imagine the rest of them as another Hochstetter."

Kalina shook her head, a glimmer of terror dancing around in her blue eyes.

"Not the man in my nightmares last night...he was mean. Scary. He took you and Papa and…" She closed her eyes, her body shivering violently, and tried with all her might to not let her crying escape. A few whimpers managed to be heard, though. She was soon being brought into Hogan's arms, and the colonel gently hushed her.

"It's alright," he said. "You're alright, you're safe. Your father and I are just fine. No one from the Gestapo's gonna hurt you, I promise. Everyone's safe." Hogan gave Kalina a kiss on the head and rubbed her back as she began to calm down again.

Kalina rested her head against Hogan's chest and let her body slowly relax as she listened to his breathing and heartbeat. When her pulse began going down, she looked up at him and gave a small smile. She lay her head back against him and got another kiss on the head. Even when the sound of the fake bunk opening was heard, she remained in her calm, tranquil state of mind.

Kinch came out from beneath the ground with Carter trailing from behind. Once both were in the barracks, the staff sergeant closed the secret tunnel entrance and sat down at the table with Hogan and Kalina.

"How are you doing there, kiddo?" Kinch asked sincerely.

"She's doing alright," Hogan answered for her. "A little shook up still, but she's alright."

"You're a tough little trooper there, little girl."

The young Klink gave a slight frown in response.

"If I were a tough little trooper, I would've been able to go out tonight on that assignment," she said, both meek and with disappointment in herself.

"Aw buddy, it's not your fault," Carter answered. "We _all_ get shook up once and awhile. Heck, _we_ even sometimes need a night or two off."

"Kiddo, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. _I'm_ scared of the Gestapo. Every time Hochstetter steps his foot inside this camp my spine gets a chill up and down it. When I first got here, I was brought in with a man by the name of Major Karl Niebuhr. I didn't _dare_ mess with him. The last few POWs he had were killed because they didn't cooperate with him. Even had to ask your old man to confine me to the barracks whenever he knew one was coming after that. Was like that for almost a month before I got over it," Kinch told her.

Kalina looked at him, both surprised and interested to learn more.

"_You_, Kinch?" She gasped, still hugging Hogan tight. "_You_ were afraid of something?"

"I'm _still_ afraid of something. My biggest fear: bats." The radioman continued.

"Why bats?"

"Have you seen one of them suckers up close? They're nasty looking things. Some of them even carry rabies."

Kalina raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding him. Another English word she was not familiar with.

"_Tollwut_," Kinch corrected himself.

"Oh...I don't think I've ever seen one in person before," she answered.

"If you do, don't come looking for me. I'll be running so fast in the other direction, I'll be in Paris within a few hours."

That got the little Klink to giggle.

"Oh, I'm fine with bats," Carter said. "It's _heights_ that I hate."

"Why are you afraid of heights?" Hogan asked, intrigued. He had never known the young man's biggest fear was heights until now.

As Carter was about to answer, the fake bunk bed again opened to reveal a bickering Newkirk and LeBeau.

"I can not believe you. I was _this_ close to kissing her, and you completely ruined it!" The Frenchman spat at the Englishman, who seemed more than agitated.

"She ain't your personal snuggle buddy, we were there on work and nothing more," Newkirk retorted.

"You're just jealous because Barbara is loyal, and Gretel was not." (1) (2)

"Oh, yah wanna bring _that_ up again, do yah? How about yah stupid stunt with that bleedin' painting you stole from Burkhalter?" (3)

LeBeau began speaking French angrily, while Newkirk spoke just as loudly in English, leaving no one able to understand what they were saying. As it was about to turn into a brawl, Hogan spoke up.

"Hold it, hold it!" He called out over them. When the corporals fell silent, he continued. "What's going on here?"

"Pierre ruined what was about to be my first kiss with Barbara, and it was the most perfect situation possible!" LeBeau remarked, crossing his arms in fury.

"I was trying to get us back in the tunnels before we became a Kraut patrol's next meal, and he's throwing a hissy fit over it." Newkirk defended himself.

"You ruined Louis and Barbara's first kiss?" Carter gasped, sounding deeply appalled.

"Carter," the colonel groaned. He turned his attention back to the corporals. "Forget Barbara, what happened tonight? What did you guys hear at the meeting?"

"There's a secret building in Schweinfurt holding a large supply of ammunition for the Krauts out east. I radioed London the location before we came up here about it. It'll be nothing but fireworks tomorrow night around 2200 hours," Newkirk reported.

"Good work, boys. Another job well done," Hogan said, with a proud grin.

Carter opened his mouth to speak, when the barracks door flew open, Schultz making his way inside while bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Lights out, everybody! Everybody to their bunks! _Raus, raus raus raus, raus_!"

"Aw Schultz, we're not hurting anybody," Kinch said.

"Just having a casual visit with one another is all." Newkirk added.

"All prisoners are supposed to be in bed by 10:00 every night with the lights out. It is almost one in the morning...wait a minute...you're all up to some monkey business, aren't you," the fluffy sergeant accused.

"We're just trying to make Kalina feel better," Carter answered innocently.

"Kalina is in...here," Schultz said, turning to find the little teenager in Hogan's arms. "Kalina! What are you doing in here? You're curfew is 9:45, what are you doing out of your quarters? Kalina, _please_...tell me you are not helping these boys with any monkey business."

"No," Kalina said, shaking her head. "I had another nightmare tonight...I needed to know Colonel Hogan was okay."

"The Gestapo one?"

The teenager nodded, her eyes turned downward.

Schultz walked to the other side of the table and held a hand out, which Kalina accepted. He pulled her to her feet and walked back to the door with his arm around her shoulders.

"My children always had bad dreams," he whispered to her as they walked. "Sometimes when I would work late, they would creep down the steps and sit in front of the door to my den. I would find them, or they would work up the courage to come in. I'd tell them what I'm sure your father has told you."

They stopped at the door, and Kalina looked up curiously. "What's that?"

"I would tell them that as long as I was there, they would be safe. As you are, my dear." Schultz winked and added with a grin, "Then we would get some warm milk and a cookie or two from the kitchen and go back to bed."

Kalina grinned. "Colonel Hogan already handled the cookie part."

She stepped out, and Schultz turned back, his smile disappeared, and was replaced with a look that attempted to be stern, but actually comical. "Lights out, and NO monkey business!"

The door closed behind the two Germans, leaving the Allied soldiers in utter silence. Carter licked his lips and turned to LeBeau when he could not take the quietness any longer.

"So…" he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "What was this perfect situation for your almost first kiss, Louis?"

LeBeau shot a glare in Newkirk's direction in response, while everyone else rolled their eyes. They already knew that this would be a very long night.

* * *

(1) Barbara Wagner is a character that I created. She is an underground agent and also the niece of Major Hochstetter's. Her first appearance is in my story "Hogan's Heroes: Finding the Silver Lining".

(2) Gretel is a pretty blonde secretly working for the Gestapo and almost blows Hogan's operation from the episode "Sticky Wicket Newkirk" in season 3. Newkirk fell head over heels for her and almost ran off we her before she exposed her true loyalties.

(3) The painting Newkirk refers to is called 'The Boy with the Fife' and the major plot for the episode "Art, for Hogan's Sake" in season 2.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Right after morning roll call, Hogan's men gathered inside barracks two to have breakfast. While Kinch was down in the tunnels making sure no messages came in from London overnight, Newkirk and Carter sat at the table, while LeBeau hovered over the stove cooking. The Frenchman walked over to the table with two cups of coffee and two plates, then placed one of each in front of his friends. While Carter made no hesitation to start eating, Newkirk cautiously looked at his plate and cup, then slowly pushed both away from him. The young sergeant looked up from his plate, and his expression became puzzled.

"Newkirk, aren't you gonna eat your breakfast?" He asked.

"No. For all I know, Louis poisoned mine or somethin'," the Englishman answered, much to LeBeau's disapproval.

"Ha ha, very funny," he retorted. "I would not risk poisoning everyone else to get to _you_, Pierre."

"Charming," Newkirk said sardonically. "I appreciate your concern." He took his blue cap off his head to begin eating, revealing to both of his friends a head of blue hair.

Carter again looked up from his plate, saw his friend's new appearance, and almost choked on his food. His eyes bugged out of their sockets, his pupils dilated wide, his mind unsure whether to say something or keep his mouth shut. He may have been the talker out of their entire friend group, but it was moments like these where even Andrew Carter decided it was best to keep quiet. He was soon greeted with the eyes of his English friend, who narrowed his eyebrows and glared at the young man.

"What are you staring at, Andrew?" He demanded.

Carter shook his head and hung his head back down. As soon as Newkirk was no longer watching him, he turned to LeBeau and mouthed 'Did _you_ do that'? The response he got was the French corporal looking back at his British counterpart, then a finger held to his lips ordering him to keep quiet.

Not needing to be told twice, Carter went back to his breakfast and casually took a cup of coffee.

The fake bunk bed came open, and Kinch crawled his way inside the barracks. He banged the hidden mechanism to close the tunnel entrance and made his way over to the coffee pot, when he spotted Newkirk's new hairdo. The staff sergeant's eyes grew as wide as Carter's did and made a silent whistle before continuing his trek. When he had a cup full of coffee, he walked to LeBeau's side and leaned over towards his ear.

"What did you do?" He barely whispered.

"You saw nothing," the Frenchman grumbled back.

Kinch quietly made his way next to Newkirk's side, sat down, and drank his coffee silently. He knew the minute the Englishman found out about his hair LeBeau was a dead man. He decided to let the small corporal enjoy his final hours of life.

"Where's Colonel?" The radioman asked, hoping to turn some attention away from Newkirk.

"Colonel, breakfast is ready!" LeBeau called out, turning towards the private room in the corner.

"Anything from London, mate?" Newkirk asked, taking a drink of coffee.

"Nothing other than a confirmation on the air raid tonight. General Berkman said he's sending in one of his top squadrons to do the job," Kinch said, not completely looking his friend in the eye. (1)

"Is it Colonel Hogan's old squadron?" Carter asked curiously.

As Kinch was about to reply, the sound of Hogan's quarters' door opening was heard, and the colonel himself emerged into sight. He looked slightly drained of color, had a hand to his head, and was grimacing a bit as he walked. He grabbed a cup of coffee and slowly sat down at the table, turning his eyes downward.

"Ooooo," he moaned. "I've got the nastiest headache."

"You've had that headache for three days now, Colonel," Kinch said, as if warning the man.

"I know, Kinch," Hogan answered, rubbing the left side of his head tenderly. "If it isn't better by tomorrow, I'm gonna go see Wilson about it. Might need a new pair of reading glasses."

"I didn't know you wore reading glasses, Colonel," Carter remarked.

"Had them since I was about 24 years old...I always regretted not having them with me the night I was shot down. Sitting somewhere in my barracks back in London still." Hogan just barely lifted his eyes when he saw his English corporal and felt his jaw drop slightly.

It now being the third person to stare at him strangely, Newkirk dropped his fork and looked at all of them.

"Alright, what the bloody hell is everyone starin' at me for?" He asked, highly agitated.

"Newkirk," Hogan began. "Did you do something different with your hair today?"

Newkirk raised his eyebrow suspiciously at his commander.

"No…" he answered wary. "Why?"

"Go look in the water barrel outside," Hogan told him, his face down to the right and being propped up with his arm. The excruciating pain from his migraine was becoming unbearable again.

The corporal looked at all of his friends, slowly got to his feet, and cautiously made his way out of the barracks while watching all of them closely. When the door closed behind him, Kinch let out a breath of air and turned to LeBeau.

"You might wanna go into hiding." The radioman warned him.

"What makes you say that?" The Frenchman asked quizzically.

"LOUIS!" They all heard Newkirk holler from outside.

"_Au revoir, mes amis_," LeBeau said, throwing his apron off. He sprinted for the fake bunk, jumped down into the tunnels, and closed the entrance as he made a run for it.

Kinch let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"Great," he said, grabbing his coffee cup. "Just what we needed: World War III."

* * *

Klink sat at his desk diligently flipping through a document that was about 50 pages long in entirety. He sometimes wondered why Burkhalter felt it was necessary to throw stuff like this upon his subordinates. He assumed his commanding officer would not like doing the same thing himself, then decided maybe that's why he made those below him do it. So that _he_ did not have to.

He signed his name once and awhile on lines addressing so, not really paying much attention to what he was signing for. So lost in his work, he failed to hear his office door open and his daughter step inside quietly. She stood there respectfully, waiting for her father to give her his attention when he was not so busy with whatever it was he was doing. She put her arms behind her back and looked around her father's office at all the pictures and objects within it. The many pictures of Hitler on the wall that made her internally cringe, a bookshelf full with books, her father's desk covered with important documents to sort through surrounded by random objects such as his pencil cup, cigar case, telephone, and helmet from World War I.

She was about to turn around and come back another time, when Klink suddenly felt the presence of someone new in the room. He looked up from his papers, saw his daughter standing there, and grinned widely at her. His blue eyes twinkled full of joy seeing her there.

Kalina brightened like the sunshine outside and sprinted from the door to her father. She wrapped her arms around his middle once reaching him, and the kommandant pulled her in close while giving her a kiss on the head. The little teenager's smile widened when Klink began rubbing the back of her head gently.

"_Guten morgen, Papa_," she said, looking up at him lovingly.

"Kalina, my little _engel_, how are you doing this morning?" Klink asked, beaming with pride. (2)

"Good, Papa. Sun's shining, I got good friends here, the best papa in the world...I've never been happier."

"And you deserve all the happiness in the entire world." The colonel hugged his daughter a touch tighter and gave her another kiss. He looked down at her fondly, his blue eyes sparkling, and continued while rubbing the back of her head. "You know, you are my favorite person in all of Germany? Don't tell General Burkhalter that, I'll be in Russia in three seconds."

Kalina giggled, then her loving gaze turned into one full of mischief.

"You know I can take you down in a thumb war in under two minutes?" She remarked, crossing her arms brashly.

"Impossible," Klink answered, feigning offense to his person. "Wilhelm Klink has _never_ lost a thumb war!"

"I play piano, _alter Mann_," Kalina said, wiggling her fingers in front of her. "They're too strong for your little fiddler thumbs." (3)

"Oh, that does it. You and me here. Right now," Klink said, pointing down at his desk. His voice was firm and command like, but his sly grin made Kalina know he was just being playfully competitive.

Both Klinks sat down by the desk, grabbed a hold of each other's hands, and moved their thumbs in opposite directions as they began to chant.

"_Eins, zwei, drei, vier_, I declare a thumb war here. _Fünf, sechs, sieben, acht_, your demise will tie the knot."

The match lasted about twenty seconds. Kalina would struggle to get her thumb free, and Klink would struggle to do the same thing. Eventually the younger Klink found the perfect attack and pressed down as hard as she could on her father's thumb. He grunted a bit as he tried to free his finger.

"One, two, three, I win!" Kalina cheered.

"You did not, you cheated," Klink remarked.

"You always were a sore loser, Papa."

"Best two out of three."

Kalina complied, and the two were soon at it again. This time, however, the match only lasted about ten seconds. The victor had again been the small teenager. Realizing his defeat, the kommandant shook his fist and let out a short 'humph'.

"You young folk are too sneaky nowadays." He commented.

"Or you're just getting old and slow," Kalina answered, with a teasing grin.

"You think I'm old, huh," Klink began. "Well, can an old man do this?" He rose to his feet, snatched his daughter into his arms, and began to spin her around, making her squeal and laugh in the process. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Klink looked down at her. "You think I'm old _now_?"

"Mmmmm...just a little bit," the little teenager said.

"That does it. Looks like I'm gonna have to smooch you to death."

Kalina resumed giggling as her father gave her several kisses on the cheek. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes with a wide grin on her face until she heard the sound of a very familiar voice end their fun.

"Klink!"

Kalina looked up and felt her eyes nearly fall out of her head. Her jaw dropped slightly.

"Uh oh," she said softly.

The colonel turned around, spotted his commanding officer standing in the doorway, then gently put his daughter on the ground and gave a sharp salute to the general.

"General Burkhalter, what a pleasure it is to see you, Sir," he proclaimed, with his usual goofy grin.

"What is it do you think you're doing in here?" Burkhalter prodded, stepping his way closer to his subordinate.

Klink gave a chuckle.

"General Burkhalter, just having a little fun with my daughter is all. Nothing too exciting," he said.

"Klink, you run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany; not a daycare center!"

"Yes, _Herr General_. Not a daycare center." Klink replied, nodding his head while wearing a frown.

"_Herr General_, don't be mad at Papa. _I_ started it. I'm sorry, General Burkhalter. Please don't be angry with Papa." Kalina clarified, her voice clear of the guilt she felt. She would hate to put her father in big trouble all because of her wrongdoing.

The burly general looked at her for a moment, then gave in.

"Alright," he said. "I will look over it just this once...but it better not happen again."

"_Nein, Herr General_. Never again, _Herr General_. I promise," she answered.

Burkhalter turned to Klink and got back to what he originally came to camp for.

"I have important word from the Gestapo. Major Hochstetter is expected to stop by in a few days." He began.

"Stop by," Klink gasped. "What for?"

"I do not know. He made it sound of the utmost importance."

"How many days before he gets here, _Herr General_?"

"I do not know that either. To the Gestapo, a few days could be anywhere from a couple hours to a couple weeks. They pride themselves on their secrecy."

"But he gave you no indication of what he's coming out here for."

"All he said was that it was urgent matters concerning the safety of all camp kommandants and their personnel."

"Papa, if I'm not intruding, I would like to request permission to leave you and General Burkhalter in private. Sounds like confidential information that should remain among Luftwaffe officers," Kalina said, hoping to get out of her father's office as quickly as possible. She had to find Hogan and report to him what she had just found out. It could be vital information that would either make or break the operation.

"You never have to ask permission for _anything, sußes_. You may come and go as you please," Klink answered, rubbing the back of his daughter's head lovingly. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the side of her head.

"_Jawohl, Papa. Danke, Papa_. It was good to see you, _Herr General_." She gave a respectful bow to the Luftwaffe officer and quietly made her way into the outer office. When the door closed behind her, Kalina let out a breath of air and nodded. "I have to find Colonel Hogan."

* * *

Hogan's headache had subsided enough that he decided to take a short stroll around barracks two. His eyes looked very cloudy, and his vision was becoming blurred. He was also beginning to stagger a bit and having trouble remembering where he was. He shook his head a bit to release himself from the cobwebs and tried to resume walking. He only took one step, when he felt a pain in the left side of his head that felt like a knife stabbing his brain. He took in a sharp breath of air and gasped. He waited for it to pass, but the pain only increased. He let out a few more gasps before crying out in agony and collapsing to the ground unconscious.

As he went down, Kalina appeared onto the porch of her father's office. She walked down the steps into the compound and began making her way towards barracks two, when she spotted Hogan lying motionless and felt her eyes nearly fall out of her head. Forgetting all about her report, the small teenager sprinted towards the American and pushed him onto his back. He was incredibly pale, and the left side of his face seemed to be drooping slightly. She began shaking him and gently slapping his cheek in efforts to wake up.

"Colonel Hogan?" She asked. When he did not respond, she shook him a bit harder, slowly losing the calm tone in her voice. "Colonel Hogan? Colonel Hogan, answer me! Wake up, Colonel Hogan, wake up!"

No answer.

Kalina tried to keep her breathing in check, but her anxiety was getting the better of her. She shot her head towards her father's office and began to scream for help.

"Papa! Papa! Papa, help! Papa! Papa! Papa! Help, Papa, help!"

As her father shot to his feet, grabbed his cap, and sprinted out of his office with Burkhalter in toe, Kinch and Newkirk were soon by Kalina's side.

"What's wrong, Kalina?" The sergeant asked.

"What happened to the Gov'nor?"

"He won't answer me! Something's wrong, Colonel Hogan needs a doctor!" The small Klink pleaded, still trying to shake Hogan back into consciousness.

"Newkirk, get Joe and now. Tell him it's an emergency," Kinch said, turning to the Englishman.

"Right, mate."

Newkirk took off like lightning towards the infirmary, and Kinch knelt down beside his commander's left.

"Colonel," he said. "Colonel. Colonel Hogan, can you hear me, Sir?"

No answer.

"_Qu'est ce qui c'est passé_?" LeBeau gasped, he and Carter soon joining the others. (4)

"What happened to Colonel Hogan?" Carter added simultaneously.

"Colonel Hogan, wake up. Please wake up, Colonel Hogan, please!" Kalina begged, still trying to gently shake him awake.

Wilson and Newkirk came flying from the infirmary, and the camp medic knelt down on the other side of Hogan. He darted his eyes up at them.

"I need everyone but Sergeant Kinchloe to back away from him. I need space to examine him," he ordered.

Just as the four were stepping back, Klink and Burkhalter ran towards the scene, the kommandant taking his daughter into his arms and attempted to calm her.

"What's going on here?" The general demanded.

"Colonel Hogan collapsed, and we don't know why," Kinch reported.

"Pupils dilated, and his blood pressure's dropping, I'm losing him," Joe said, a bit of frantic in his voice.

"I will call for an ambulance," Burkhalter said, before turning swiftly on his heels and heading back for the kommandant's office.

"No! No, no, you can't lose him! Don't lose Colonel Hogan! Papa, order him to save Colonel Hogan!" Kalina sobbed, burying her face into her father's belly. Klink wrapped his arms around her tighter and hushed her while gently rubbing her head.

As the sound of an ambulance siren was heard approaching, Wilson began doing chest compressions.

"One, two, three, four, five...damn it, Colonel. You're not dying on us, you hear me? _Breathe_, damn it, breathe, Colonel!"

* * *

(1) General Berkman is a character I created and is Hogan's commanding officer. He first appears in my story "Coming Into the Light".

(2) _Engel_ \- angel

(3) _A__lter Mann_ \- old man

(4) _Qu'est ce qui c'est passé_ \- What happened?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

The minute Hogan was brought into the hospital he was rushed off to a critical care unit and just as quickly into surgery. While Hogan was in emergency surgery, Klink, Schultz, Hogan's men, and Kalina impatiently waited in the operating room waiting area. Once two hours had gone by without a word from anyone, Klink gave strict orders for his sergeant to go find a doctor and demand for some answers.

Kinch paced back and forth across the waiting room, Carter and LeBeau tried to distract themselves with a game of go-fish, Newkirk was on his fifth cigarette, and Klink held his daughter as she quietly cried. At the moment, _none_ of them knew the meaning of the word 'calm'.

"It's been two hours now. What the bloody hell is taking them so long?" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Maybe something went wrong?" Carter asked, with hesitance, as he lay a card down.

"Charming. 'Cause that makes me feel so much better."

"I'm sure Colonel Hogan's just fine. Dr. Klaussner probably is just making sure everything's alright before he takes him out of surgery," Kinch answered, trying to remain sane for all of them. (1)

"I just do not understand it," LeBeau said, drawing a card from the deck. "What happened to _mon Colonel_? He was just fine this morning besides his headache. How did he go from good to bad so fast?"

"You think he caught a virus from somewhere?" Carter proposed.

"It's the middle of August." The Englishman commented.

"So? Someone in Stalag 17 died from viral pneumonia last week. _That's_ a virus."

"Andrew, shut it before I stuff your hat down your mouth."

The kommandant turned his eyes towards Newkirk briefly and noticed something off with the man. His blue cap was pulled down more than usual. So much that you could barely see the bottom of his ears. Curious, Klink raised an eyebrow and decided to investigate the matter.

"Corporal Newkirk," he said.

"What is it, Kommandant? Can't yah see I'm in the middle of an argument here?" Newkirk remarked, snippy.

"I can see everything just fine...except for the top of your head. Why is that?"

"I'm...having a bad hair day...A _very_ bad hair day."

"Prove it. Take off your hat."

"Really? You're gonna do this right now when the Gov'nor's having emergenc…"

"Just do as I say, Corporal. Unless you wish to spend the rest of the night in solitary confinement."

Newkirk let out a heavy breath of air and reluctantly did as told. He slowly removed his cap to reveal his bright blue head of hair. The sight made Klink suck in a sharp gasp, then his eyes narrowed and shook his fist at the Englishman.

"Corporal Newkirk, what is the meaning of this?! Why is your hair as blue as your uniform?" He demanded.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill the Frenchman," Newkirk answered, slowly turning to glare at the man standing to his right. LeBeau returned the same glare and crossed his arms.

"It is not nice to threaten to _kill_ people." He replied, snooty.

"Well, it ain't nice to dye people's hair blue without their permission _either_!" Newkirk barked back.

"Enough," Kinch ordered firmly. "_Both_ of you. Colonel's in that operating room right now fighting for his life, and you two are bickering about something that will resolve itself in a rather of months."

"Yah mean I'm stuck with this blue bird hair for the next few months?!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"You are lucky I decided to not use _permanent_ dye," LeBeau said, earning a hard glare back from his English counterpart.

"You'll be lucky if you ain't the next one to go into surgery." Newkirk replied.

The little Frenchman stuck his tongue out in response.

Kalina sniffled while wiping tears away. "Papa," she whimpered. "I don't want Colonel Hogan to die."

Klink hushed her and brought her close to his side. "He's in the best hands possible, _sußes_. Dr. Klaussner is the best doctor in all of Germany. If anyone can help Colonel Hogan get better, he's the man for the job," he told her confidently.

"What's wrong with him? He was just fine this morning at roll call. What happened to him?"

"We will know soon, baby. I promise you, we will know very soon. Sergeant Schultz is finding someone right now to give us some answers."

Kalina buried her face back into her father's side and resumed crying. Klink did all he could to console his daughter. Hug her, rub the back of her head, give her kisses, but nothing seemed to do the trick. All he could do was hold her tight and promise her that everything would be alright.

As Newkirk was about to lose his last piece of sanity, the doors to the operating room swung open, and Dr. Richard Klaussner emerged into the waiting area. He had a surgical mask hanging around his neck along with his stethoscope and wore bags underneath his old, wrinkled eyes. The scrubs he wore were blood stained and seemed to be doing all he could to not collapse from pure exhaustion. He made his way quietly to the kommandant, who turned to him with an anxious look plastered on his face.

"Dr. Klaussner, how is he?" Klink asked.

The old man gave a heavy sigh.

"I'm afraid Colonel Hogan has suffered from a stroke," he answered.

"STROKE!" All of Hogan's men cried.

"The Gov'nor's too healthy to have a stroke!" Newkirk added.

"He doesn't smoke often, drink too much, eats right, Joe even said he was healthy as a horse at his last physical," Carter said.

"Colonel Hogan had an intracerebral hemorrhage stroke due to an aneurysm. I've looked over his medical records, and strokes are fairly common in his family's medical history. His grandfather and two of his uncles died from one," Klaussner continued. "We had to perform extensive surgery in order to repair the bleeding. It occurred on the left side of his brain."

"Which means what? Is that bad?" Kinch asked.

"If Colonel Hogan survives, he could have serious traumatic damages to his left hemisphere." The doctor explained.

"If?" Kalina questioned, wiping her eyes. "What do you mean 'if'? Surgery went well, right?"

"Colonel Hogan has yet to regain consciousness. The longer he's unconscious, the more unlikely survival looks."

"You mean Hogan could..._die_?" Klink gasped, just the idea of it giving him nightmares.

"We're currently keeping him closely monitored and giving him several IVs. All we can do now is wait. At the moment, I can't do anymore for him...I'm sorry, Colonel. It's up to him now."

"Can we see him?" Carter croaked.

Klaussner nodded, and the group of six followed him down the hallway to an elevator. They went up to the seventh floor and continued down several more hallways before finally reaching a room with a closed door and a window with closed blinds, making it impossible for anyone to see who was inside. The doctor quietly opened the door and stepped aside to let the others in first.

Kalina was the first to make her way into the room and gasped at the sight before her. Soon joined by the five men, they looked in the same direction she was facing and did the same thing. Hogan lay on the bed covered with sheets and a blue thermal blanket with bandages wrapped around his head, hooked up to several wires and IVs, oxygen assistance being given through his nostrils, and was completely inert besides his chest faintly rising and lowering.

"Oh, Colonel," Kinch said, wearing a long frown.

The little Klink sprinted from the rest of the group and wrapped her arms around Hogan's neck as she buried her face into the crook of it. She sniffled and let out a few sobs. She finally had two parents. Regardless her second parent being another man, she finally had two parents. Two that she loved more than her entire life. She could not lose him. She could not lose her second papa. Her heart began to hurt more, and her soft sobs turned into full blown crying.

"Aw Gov'nor," Newkirk gasped. "What did they do to you, Sir?"

As Kalina continued to cry, Hogan's eyes began to flutter open and closed. Slowly he opened them fully and blinked a few times to try and make sense of the scenery. He immediately recognized that he was in some critical care room and slowly turned his head to the right finding Kalina weeping into his shoulder. At first he frowned, then gave a comforting smile and began rubbing her shoulder with his left hand, which was covered with gauze and tape protecting his IV from dislodging.

Feeling someone suddenly touching her arm, the small teenager looked up, spotted Hogan looking at her, and froze for a moment. The colonel gave her a friendly smile and began wiping a few of her tears from her cheeks. In response, she gave a small grin back and hugged him.

Klink sighed with relief, placing a hand over his heart.

"_Danke, Gott_," he said.

Hogan's men all grinned from ear to ear and hurried to their commander's side.

"That a boy, Colonel. I knew you were too stubborn to die," Carter said.

"Blimey, Colonel, you scared the bleedin' hell out of us!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"No more scaring us with strokes, Sir, got it?" Kinch added.

The American officer gave a silent smirk in response and looked at all of them and Kalina warmly.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"You see any pretty nurses yet, Sir? This place is rollin' with 'em," the English corporal said, with a wink.

Hogan's only answer was a soft smile, his big brown eyes twinkling.

"Too tired to talk, Colonel, or did Hochstetter finally get after that tongue of yours?" The staff sergeant asked, with a chuckle.

Hogan closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, still smiling at all of them. Not once did he make a single sound or say a single word. Nothing but his facial expression got across how he was feeling at the moment.

Kalina swallowed a growing lump in her throat, her grin quickly turning into a long frown. Something was wrong. Hogan was one of the chattiest people she knew. The minute he had regained consciousness he would have said at least a sentence by now. Something was wrong with her American colonel, and she could not figure out what. And it sent chills running up and down her spine.

"Guys," she said, with growing concern. "Why won't he talk to us?"

"Colonel?" Kinch asked, sitting down beside his commander's legs.

"Colonel, can you hear us?" LeBeau added, a touch of frantic in his tone.

Hogan nodded in response. He could hear them all just fine. _More_ than fine. He wondered why they were all so suddenly concerned over his hearing. Everything felt fine. His legs, his arms, vision, hearing, even his smell could detect the distinct medical scent found only in hospitals. The one thing that _did_ feel different was his throat. Something felt strange to him, but could not decipher what it was. A sort of numbness that not even words could describe. The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became. Whatever it was, he hoped it was nothing serious.

"Say something, Gov. Anything, just the first thing that comes to mind," Newkirk urged.

The colonel tried to respond, but could get nothing out of his mouth. He attempted again, but no sound came out. He tried once more, this time lifting his head up a bit from the pillow, yet nothing happened. He lay his head back down, rubbed his throat tenderly, and looked up at all of them in panic. His eyes were wide, his muscles grew tense, and was beginning to silently hyperventilate.

"Why won't he answer us?" Carter asked, his adrenaline getting the best of him. "What's wrong with him?!"

"Dr. Klaussner!" Klink bellowed for help.

The old medic came bursting in and hurried for his patient's side.

"What happened?" He asked, with urgency.

"He won't answer us when we speak to him," Newkirk reported frantically.

"He can understand us, but he can't say anything." Kinch added.

"Colonel," Klaussner stated, his attention back to his patient. "Colonel Hogan, answer me a simple question. What day is it?"

Hogan opened his mouth and was greeted with the same thing as earlier. He then tried to force himself to get something to come out, but nothing but a faint gasp managed to roll out. The hand of his good friend came down on his shoulder to ease him.

"Easy, Colonel, easy," Klaussner said. "You just had a traumatic medical emergency. You must not push yourself right now. You could risk another stroke that way."

Hogan looked up at him with big pupils, shaking his head while his mouth quivered. What's wrong with me, he could read in his eyes. Why can't I talk?

The doctor sat down beside his legs, took a small flashlight, and shone it into the American's mouth. He scanned it briefly, then turned the light off and slid it back into his lab coat pocket. He let out a breath of air through his nose, then looked up at Hogan's men and Kalina, who were all watching him anxiously. He looked at them a moment longer, then finally spoke.

"I'm afraid Colonel Hogan has developed anarthria in result to his stroke."

"Anarthria," Kalina said, swallowing a lump in her throat. "What's that?"

"It's a loss of control on the muscles needed to produce speech. It seems that Colonel Hogan's stroke has severely damaged the part of his brain responsible for speech and left him unable to remember how to talk. He can understand us and wants to respond, but his vocal folds have disconnected from his brain, in a sense."

"He'll, he'll get it back though...right?" Carter asked hesitantly.

Klaussner fell silent briefly before answering.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Klink exclaimed, butting in. "Will Colonel Hogan get his ability to speak back or not?"

"He will need intensive speech therapy and a different way of communicating with others during the process. Will he get part of his speech back, maybe...will he get _all_ of it back, I can't tell you." The medic clarified, getting to his feet.

"You mean...Colonel Hogan may never talk again?" Klink's daughter asked, shaky.

"I'm sorry, my dear...but it is a strong possibility," Klaussner said sincerely.

All of Hogan's men looked at one another in horror. Klink stood at the foot of the bed hardly able to breathe. As for Kalina, she wrapped her arms around Hogan's neck and buried her face into the crook of it. The colonel himself swallowed a large knot in his throat and looked on at the men before him in a state of panic. What would happen if he was never able to talk again?...What would happen to the operation and his little _family_ if he was never able to talk again?

* * *

(1) Dr. Richard Klaussner is a character I created. He is an underground agent and one of Hogan's closest friends. He first appeared in my story "Hogan's Heroes: Finding the Silver Lining". I occasionally lend him out to other writers, but you must message me for permission first and tell me the reason for using him in your story!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Days went by and after a long stay in the hospital, Hogan was finally allowed to go home. As Klink pulled into camp with his American counterpart, the boys and Kalina were busy putting the finishing touches on all the banners, balloons, and decorations for Hogan's welcome home party. Kalina and LeBeau were busy making sure the cake and table was all neat and perfect, Carter and Newkirk were working on streamers and music, and Kinch made sure no one tried to kill one another while in the process.

"Aren't yah finished with that bloomin' sucker yet? We still have to get the music up and playin' before the Gov'nor gets back here." The Englishman badgered.

"Give me a minute, will yah? Not _my_ fault Klink had all the barracks refurbished. You know how hard it is to get a nail into these boards. I'd use my _hammer_ had Schultz not confiscated it," Carter answered, just as irritated.

"You fell through the roof of the kommandantur and nearly whacked Klink in the head as you came down," Newkirk pointed out.

"Not like I was _trying_ to or anything. How was _I_ supposed to know his roof had been that fragile? We all know Klink over exaggerates everything."

"Will you two just hurry up and get that streamer hanging? Before you cause _me_ to have a stroke," Kinch said, agitated with the two's usual arguing.

"Why couldn't it have been one of _them_ to get anathia?" LeBeau grumbled.

Kalina furrowed her eyebrows together and stared at the Frenchman quizzically.

"An_arthria_," she answered.

"_Quel que_." (1)

"Calcu-who?"

As LeBeau was about the answer, all of them heard the sound of a doorknob turning and darted their attention to the barracks entrance.

"It's him. Everyone get into your positions," Kinch ordered.

All five of them scrambled to get to their designated spot, Carter rushing back to the record player at the last minute to start the music. Instead of the desired Army Air Corps anthem, the loud start to 'Caissons Are Rolling Along' was heard throughout the main area.

"Carter." The staff sergeant groaned.

"Sorry. Wrong record," the young man answered, and hurried back to the correct one.

"As if that weren't blatantly obvious," Newkirk said, with a glare.

Carter just as quickly returned to the group after dropping the needle.

The door came to an open, and Hogan slowly stepped inside, his right leg shaky caused from his stroke. He looked up at all the decorations, the five standing before him in all smiles, and the large banner behind them reading 'We Missed You, Colonel Hogan'. To his left sat a double chocolate cake on the table and a record playing his military anthem. He gave a wide smile, and his eyes twinkled brightly.

"Welcome home, Colonel," Kinch said sincerely.

The little Klink ran towards Hogan and gave him a big hug, grinning from ear to ear. The colonel smiled more and brought her close. He gently rubbed her back and gave her a kiss on top of her head.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan frowned and cocked his head to the side. He took his hands and pretended to be writing something in the palm of his left, his eyes never leaving sight of his technical sergeant.

"Your hand itches?"

Hogan shook his head while waving his hand. He pretended to be holding a sheet of paper, took his right pointer finger and thumb, and wrote in the air.

"You wish to clean the windows, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

Again Hogan shook his head. He then pointed to his throat and repeated his movements from previously.

"I know what it is. He's thirsty," Newkirk said confidently.

"You want coffee or water, Colonel?" The Frenchman prodded.

At that point, the American officer was fed up. He closed his eyes and let out a steamy breath of air, then threw both of his hands out at them to shut them up. He turned swiftly on his shoes and stormed towards his office, closing the door with a loud slam.

"Gee," Carter answered. "He must be really sick of coffee and water." He earned a glare from all the men, and Kalina rolled her eyes. She looked back in the direction of Hogan's bedroom and quietly made her way over. She gently rapped on the door, then opened it so just her head was peeking through. She found the colonel sitting at his desk with a hand to his head and his eyes completely closed.

The little teenager frowned more, then closed the door behind her. She made her way to Hogan and placed her hand on his arm.

"Don't be sad, Colonel Hogan. You'll get your voice back, I _know_ you will. You're Papa Bear, and Papa Bear can do anything he wants to. That's what _you_ always tell me when I'm having doubts on an assignment," she said, with a bright smile.

Hogan gave a sad grin in return, then faced forward again and frowned. His heart ached. It felt like he was grieving the loss of a loved one, but this loved one was inside him. How he wished to go out into the main area and sing to his military song. To laugh and joke around with his best friends. To be able to stop by Klink's office and give him a rough time...he could not even ask for a stupid glass of water. He felt useless without his voice. He felt as if he were nothing more than an inconvenience to everybody.

"Just because you can't talk right now doesn't mean you can't talk at _all_. There are _many_ different ways to communicate with people. Helen Keller couldn't talk normally, but she could speak to anyone with sign language...that's it," Kalina cried, a light bulb turning on in her head. "Repeat after me." She then proceeded to do several gestures with her hands and fingers. The response she got was Hogan raising an eyebrow and looking at her oddly. "Just do it," she remarked.

Hogan let out a silent sigh, but did as told. When he finished, the girl smiled wide.

"You just asked me how I'm doing," she said.

The colonel stared at her in surprise for the longest amount of time. When the shock subsided, he pointed at her with a perplexed look to his face. His eyes screaming 'how did you know that'.

"Papa wanted me to grow up learning about different cultures and respecting diversity. I started learning English when I was two and added Japanese and sign language when I was nine. Just call me a polyglot." Kalina explained.

Hogan again looked at her with shock, then picked up some paper and a pen and scribbled something onto it with a shaky right hand. He could write still, but his penmanship had become a bit sloppy. He picked the paper up and showed it to the little Klink. It read 'You're fluent in sign language?'

She nodded with an 'mm hmmm'. "If you can learn how to speak fluent German in a period of weeks, then sign language should be just as easy." She added.

He put the paper back on the desk and wrote something else on it. He again showed her it. Underneath his previous question read 'What else do you know?'

"Alright, this one's pretty easy. Just do it after me." Kalina again made many gestures with her fingers and hands. Hogan did just as she, and her smile widened. "That means 'I want water'."

Hogan's eyes welled with unshed tears, a bright grin coming to his face. He got the same back from Kalina.

"If you can't speak regularly right now, then we'll make you speak a _different_ way," she said.

The American's eyes glimmered and held his arms out a bit. The little Klink made her way quickly to Hogan and wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. Perhaps he would not be so useless after all.

* * *

Hours went by since Hogan's homecoming. While Kalina taught him more sign language in his quarters, Carter and Newkirk played a game of gin while LeBeau made dinner. Kinch was below in the tunnels informing Hogan's commanding officer, General Berkman, of their current situation. All four were worried he would request Hogan to go home to the United States for better medical care either until he regained his ability to speak or permanently. _None_ of them wanted to see him leave. The colonel was the heart of the operation. Without him, they were just a few prisoners with a wild dream to stop the Allies. He was also their best friend. There was not a single man in camp that did not go to Hogan for advice. He lifted them up in times of dread and sorrow, and he made them laugh in times of happiness and joy. Then there was little Kalina, who loved him like another father. Giving her warm hugs, singing 'With My Head In the Clouds' to her when she was scared or sad, telling her funny stories of his time in school and in London while waiting for the others to return from assignments, losing him would not be any easier on her. Everyone at Stalag 13 loved Hogan. Sometimes they wondered if even the _guards_ liked him somewhat.

With everyone lost in what they were doing, they momentarily did not notice the fake bunk come down and Kinch emerge from the tunnels. Hogan's second in command closed the entryway and made his way over to the others. The three flyers all turned to him with worried looks, but Newkirk was the first one to speak the burning question they may or may not want to know the answer to.

"What did he say, Kinch?"

"Colonel Hogan's allowed to stay, but until he regains his ability to speak, he's sending in a temporary replacement to command the operation," the leading sergeant answered.

"Please tell me it is not _Monsieur _Crittendon." LeBeau pleaded.

"No, Crittendon's currently on another assignment stationed somewhere in Northern Germany. General Berkman said he'll be here sometime tomorrow morning."

"_Who_ will be here tomorrow morning?" A familiar voice asked.

They all turned to find Kalina and Hogan standing a few feet from the colonel's quarters. They had just entered the main area as Kinch was finishing his report.

"They're sending in another colonel to temporarily take over the operation," Newkirk answered.

"You asked for someone to replace Colonel Hogan?" Kalina asked, her heart dropping into her stomach.

"Absolutely not," Kinch said. "_No one_ is replacing Colonel Hogan. It's impossible. General Berkman just feels that while he's recovering from his stroke someone should step in and take over for a while. Just until the Colonel can speak a little again."

"Why can't _you_ take over?" She prodded.

"If Hochstetter wasn't sniffing his nose around here constantly, that would be fine. General Berkman feels another officer with a higher rank than major is necessary, though. Someone to put Hochstetter in his place." The radioman explained.

"The Gestapo? Keeping their nose out of things?" Kalina asked, Hogan's hands gently placed on her shoulders. She scoffed. "You're better off telling the _Fuhrer_ to shave his mustache."

"I feel Hitler would look a little weird without his mustache." Carter commented.

"Lay a bloody card down, will yah?" Newkirk retorted.

"Who is it?" The little Klink asked.

"We won't know until he gets here tomorrow morning," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"_Merci, Mon Dieu_ it is not Colonel Crittendon." LeBeau added, feeling a three hundred pound weight being lifted from his shoulders.

"Crittendon?" Kalina responded. "Who's Crittendon?"

"Trust me, you want it to stay that way," Kinch answered firmly.

Kalina looked up at Hogan for confirmation and got a few firm nods from the colonel.

"He can't be _that_ bad...can he?"

Hogan placed a hand to the side of his head, hung his head slightly, and shook it while closing his eyes.

"Crittendon's may or may not gotten us nearly killed a few times while visiting." The radioman clarified.

"And your father." LeBeau added.

"Or almost exposed the operation," Carter said.

"Or caught by the Gestapo." Newkirk chimed in.

"Boy," Kalina said. "Does he walk around with a black cat or something?"

"No, he's just one of them blokes that are born with walking bad luck," the Englishman answered.

"S'good thing he's not here right now, then. Colonel Hogan, there's something I've been trying to get the chance to tell you." Hogan turned his full attention to the little teenager. "General Burkhalter came by a few days ago. He told Papa that Major Hochstetter is due any day now for a visit. It sounds really big, too."

The colonel did a few gestures with his hands and got a head shake for an answer.

"They don't know what he's coming here for. General Burkhalter just said it sounded really urgent. Possibly concerning the safety of all camp kommandants and their personnel," Kalina said.

Hogan pursed his lips and put a fist on his hip, his brain turning at a hundred miles a minute.

"What do you think it is, Kinch?" LeBeau asked.

"If it's got Burkhalter shook up, then it must be something groundbreaking," Kinch said, crossing his arms. "Something that could be a make or break for either side of the war."

"I don't know _what_ it may be," Kalina answered. "But whatever it is, it's got even _Deutschland_ shaking in its boots."

* * *

Hogan spent the next morning relaxing in his quarters with a good book. Sitting in his desk chair, forgetting all about his current reality, he lost himself in the mystery that was slowly unraveling before his eyes. So lost in his novel, he failed to hear the faint knock on his door. It silently opened, and Kalina stood quietly in the doorway, waiting for the man to give her his attention. Remembering how oblivious the colonel was when it came to reading, the little teenager cleared her throat and tried as politely as possible to get his attention.

"Colonel Hogan?" She asked softly.

Hogan looked up from his book and turned to face his left. When he spotted Kalina standing there, she continued.

"I think that new colonel's here, Colonel Hogan. I can't tell, though. All of you American officers look the same with your leather jackets and military um…'get-up' I think is the term."

Hogan gave a silent smirk, got to his feet, and walked with Kalina to the barracks entrance. The duo stood in the doorway and turned their attention to the front of Klink's office. A Gestapo staff car was pulled alongside the building, and two soldiers were trying to get a resisting American colonel to go up the stairs and inside. After about five minutes, the Gestapo guards were finally able to get inside the kommandantur with their prisoner leading the way.

When the last man disappeared from sight, Hogan looked down at Kalina and gently tapped her shoulder. She looked up at him in response to find him pointing his thumb behind him.

"Is it him? Did I get it right?" She asked.

The colonel gave a lopsided grin and winked for an answer. Kalina giggled and followed her friend back inside the barracks and into Hogan's quarters.

* * *

(1) _Quel que_ \- whatever


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Klink flipped through a large legal document that was more boring him to death than informing him on the new changes made to all POW camps. He hated going through legal documents. All the fancy terminology and weird wording of sentences made his brain nauseous. He would shred it if he did not need to sign it here and there and return it to Berlin. He was about to bang his head against the desk, when he got the blessing of someone knocking on his door. He quickly turned his eyes to the door.

"Come in," he granted.

The office door came to an open, and the two Gestapo soldiers came in with a sharp salute to the colonel. Before them was the American colonel sitting all scrunched up in the chair before the kommandant's desk. Like he was trying to imitate an armadillo curling up into a protective ball to shield himself from lurking predators.

Currently ignoring everything but the two Gestapo men, Klink shot up from his desk and saluted the two men. Though he gave his usual foolish grin, his blood and adrenaline were pumping through his veins a hundred miles a minute. _Is it too late to go back to that stupid legal document I was reading_, he wondered silently.

"Gentlemen," he began, clapping his hands together. "What can I do for you on this beautiful day?"

"I am Sergeant Dietrich Dunckel. This is my partner, Corporal Gerlach," the taller one said.

Klink snickered softly.

"Dunckel," He swallowed a knot in his throat after seeing the unamused expression in the sergeant's dark eyes. "You were saying, _Herr Feldwebel_?" (1)

"We have brought you a prisoner from Headquarters," Dunckel continued, his tone dry. "Was shot down a bit to the west of here last night and was caught trying to sneak into the trunk of one of our colleagues' cars."

"We have been unable to get anything out of him. We thought with your impeccable record that you could break him a little and get him to talk." Gerlach added, his voice just as lifeless as the sergeant's.

"Of course, Corporal Gerlach. It would be my pleasure," Klink said, then turned to the American with an arrogant grin. "Well...decided you could escape out of Germany in _my_ neck of the area, huh? You'd be sadly mistaken, then. No one from Stalag 13 ever escapes. Not now, not yesterday, not tomorrow, not ever. I'll start you off with an easy question. Who are you? Name, rank, and serial number."

The young colonel looked up at the kommandant frantically. His bright blue eyes were dilated and seemed to be breathing heavily. He opened his mouth a few times to try an answer, but the German's stare proved too much for him. He shot from his chair and raced towards the closed door, where the two Gestapo guards grabbed him by the arm and brought him back to the chair as he sobbed.

"Ah hahaha, ah ha. No. No no. Ah hahahaha." The American cried, as he was plopped back down into the chair. He tried to get back up, but was pushed back down into his seat by both guards.

Klink grimaced as the man continued to cry. He met the guards' gazes, who appeared as confused and uncomfortable as he felt. He was used to silence or disdain. He was used to glares and even the occasional spit in his direction...but this? This was embarrassing. He did not quite know what to say.

"Colonel Bert Thomason?" He read the name off of his file. "Colonel Thomason, please stop. I really need to get this interview completed. Afterwards, you will be assigned to a barracks."

Thomason looked up fearfully and tightened his leather jacket closer to his body. "What do you want?" He asked, his voice trembled as he avoided Klink's gaze. He wiped his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

"Your name, rank, and serial number," Klink said patiently. "I will cross check it with the information on your file."

Thomason sniffled, wiped his eyes again, then finally answered the question.

"Colonel Bert Thomason. United States Army Air Corps. N576445...don't shoot me in the head, please don't shoot me in the head." He blubbered the last part.

"Colonel Thomason, you haven't even _done_ anything worth shooting you in the head for," Klink answered, both slightly irritated and flabbergasted. This man was not only a coward, but also incredibly irrational.

"They didn't have to go and kick me, did they?" The American replied, pulling a kleenex out of his jacket pocket and wiping his eyes.

"Do you know anything regarding the Gestapo?" Dunckel asked, cocking his head slightly to the right.

"_Herr Kommandant_, I think this man is delusional," Gerlach said, actually concerned for Thomason's mental state.

"Or is suffering from some sort of brain lesion." Dunckel commented.

"Perhaps it would be better to question him further after adjusting to his new surroundings?" Klink suggested.

"If you can get something out of this man other than full blown sobbing, be my guest. If I hear him blubber and cry once more, I will give _myself_ a brain lesion," the sergeant said, the last part with a gnarl.

"Schultz!" The kommandant bellowed.

It only took about ten seconds for the door to open, and the fluffy sergeant entered inside. He turned to his commander and gave a sharp salute, who returned the same gesture.

"Yes, _Herr Kommandant_?" He asked.

"Take Colonel Thomason to barracks two. Have him meet Colonel Hogan and inform him of his duties as Senior POW. Colonel Thomason will temporarily take over Hogan's duties as he recovers from his stroke," Klink ordered.

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_!" Schultz made his way over to the chair in front of the kommandant's desk and gave the young American a friendly smile...though poor Schultz did not get the same in return. Thomason turned to his right, looked up at the Luftwaffe sergeant, and seemed to lose all color to his face. His eyes dilated to the size of saucers and began shaking violently. He shot from his seat, zipped around Klink's desk, and lunged himself underneath for safety.

While Schultz frowned and was not sure of what he had done wrong, Klink ran his hands down his face and let out a heavy breath of air.

"Why didn't I go to law school like my father wanted me to?" He grumbled to himself. "I can't believe I am about to give this order. Schultz?"

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_," the sergeant said.

"Go get my daughter." He begged.

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_."

Schultz gave another salute, snapped on his heels, and made his way for barracks two: Kalina's usual hang out spot. The small figure of the teenager soon replaced the one of Schultz's and made her way close to her father's side. She could just barely make out the familiar black uniforms standing off to her left and did not dare look an inch more. She knew she would freeze in her spot and begin to shake violently the very moment she laid eyes on them, and the last thing she needed was to attract attention.

"_Jawohl, Papa_," she said respectfully.

"Would you please escort Colonel Thomason to barracks two? Introduce him to Colonel Hogan and a few other Allied flyers to make him feel more welcomed here," Klink requested, sounding more like a plea.

"Yes, Papa...um…" She paused, seeing no American in sight. He had to be there somewhere. It was not like he just got up and left through the front gate. Where was he anyways? "Papa...where is this Colonel Thomason?"

"Look under the desk," Klink said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

Kalina raised her eyebrow in suspicion, her lips pursed together in curiosity. Doing as told, she made her way behind her father's desk, leaned over a bit, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. There, desperately trying to hide and take cover for whatever reason, was Thomason. A young colonel in his late twenties with blue eyes and brown hair. He appeared as tall as Hogan, but skinny as a tree branch from what she could tell. It was difficult to know for sure with the dim lighting and the man literally scrunching up into a little ball...or at least _trying_ to anyways.

Thomason noticed someone staring at him from the corner of his eye and slowly turned his head to find the little Klink standing there. He was both anxious and surprised to find her there. What was a little teenage girl doing inside a POW camp, he wondered. She could not have been just an ordinary person living there. None of the guards, nor the kommandant, would have just allowed her free entrance without some sort of ties or authority to the camp. She had some strong connection with Stalag 13, and it made him intrigued and mortified at the same time. What was it, and the question he wanted to know even less, who was it with?

Kalina frowned, but her eyes held empathy and compassion. Maybe he was just severely frightened by the two Gestapo soldiers that had taken him in, she thought. She too was struggling currently with a crippling fear of the Gestapo. Of course she had her father, Hogan, the boys, Schultz, and Langenscheidt helping her slowly get through it, but this poor guy had nobody. Not a friend in the world. If that were the case, she could understand that and decided she would try and be his friend. Everyone needed a friend in her mind. _Especially_ during a huge war like this one.

Kalina stuck her hand out towards the colonel.

"_Komm, liebchen_," she said friendly. (2)

Thomason froze and felt his eyes nearly fall out the minute she started speaking German to him. _Why_, he thought to himself. _Why does this sweet kid have to be one of them_?

The reaction made Kalina furrow her eyebrows.

"It's a hand," she continued. "Not a grenade."

The colonel tried to move, but his entire body had gone stiff. Could he trust this little teenager? He still had no idea who she was. For all he knew she could be an undercover agent for one of those...those _things_ out there. Those things his commanding officer had drilled into his head that did unspeakable things to human beings. Things he wished he could forget about hearing of.

Kalina licked her lips and tried to think of a different method. Clearly this was not going well for either party. She needed something else to coax the American out from under the desk. An idea sparked a dead light bulb inside her brain, and she began talking to him as if bribing a small child. "If you come out from under there, I'll take you to a very nice colonel. He's American like you are."

That seemed to grab Thomason's attention. He looked her over from head to toe once more, then hesitantly reached out his hand towards the teenager. She gently grabbed his in response and slowly got the man to crawl out and rise to his feet. Kalina escorted him around her father's desk and walked back to her papa.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Papa?" She asked.

"Yes, to kiss your pretty face," Klink answered, leaning over and kissing the side of his daughter's head. She grimaced, but a small smile made its way to Kalina's face.

"Papa," she moaned. "Not in front of the new prisoner."

She got another kiss on the side of her head, and Klink wrapped his arms around her neck while resting his head on hers.

"I love you, my little _sußes_," he said. Kalina could not help but light up in response.

"I love you, Papa," she told him, looking up at her hero in admiration. Her father gently rubbed her back as she turned to look at Thomason again. "Come on, Colonel. Barracks two awaits you." She began pulling him along, while Thomason had turned pale again. He looked on at the kommandant with preposterously dilated pupils.

"Papa? Oh no, no no no. Alright! I'll talk! I'm Bert Irving Thomason. My birthday's June 17, I live in Miami, and I like to play the banjo in my free time. Don't let her kill me! I don't wanna die!" The American sobbed, Kalina struggling to get him out of the office. Somehow she managed to get him out and closed the door behind her, leaving a baffled Klink and two Gestapo soldiers, all three of them not sure of what just happened.

Gerlach raised his eyebrow curiously and turned to look at Dunckel.

"What is a bahnjo?" He asked, dumbfounded.

The sergeant shook his head and put a hand to his aching head.

* * *

In barracks two, LeBeau was finishing up sweeping the floor while everyone else sat at the table. Kinch and Carter playing a game of gin, Hogan reading a book while drinking a cup of coffee, and Newkirk looked into a hand held mirror at his blue hair. He grimaced as he combed his fingers through the locks.

"Aw, look at this," Newkirk groaned. "No pretty bird's gonna want me for _months_."

"You should have not interfered with me and Barbara then." LeBeau spat back.

"You better sleep with a bloody eye open tonight, Louis. I'll get you for this."

"I am not afraid of _you_." The Frenchman turned to Hogan, his eyes softening. "Can I get you some more coffee, Colonel?"

Hogan smiled, shook his head, then did the sign language for 'thank you'.

"Boy," Carter said. "It's sure gonna take some time to adjust to Colonel Hogan not talking. Kinda quiet around here with him mute."

"I used to _know_ sign language," Kinch said. "It was so many years ago I forgot it, though. I know how to spell my name, but that's about it."

"I think he said he wants LeBeau to give him money," the young sergeant answered.

"He said 'thank you', you blockhead." Newkirk growled.

The colonel cocked his head to the side and gave his English corporal a scolding look, when everyone's attention was brought to the sound of the door opening. Kalina came in dragging a bawling Thomason blubbering a prayer to God he would not die. When the door came to a close, she turned around and reached up to gently slap Thomason on the cheek a few times. Once he began to calm down and gave her his attention, she took her hand and held his head with her thumb and pointer finger squishing his cheeks.

"Stop crying," she ordered calmly. "You're a colonel. Colonels don't cry in the line of duty."

"I'm an American, I'll cry if I want to," Thomason remarked, still weeping a bit.

Hogan put his book down, rose to his feet, then walked over and gave a salute to his fellow officer with a kind smile. His younger counterpart looked up from wiping his eyes and spotted Hogan behind the little German girl. _Thank God_, he thought. _Finally, someone of my own kind_.

"Who are you?" Thomason asked.

Hogan simply looked at him for a moment, down at his jacket, then back up at Thomason while pointing to the nameplate sewn into his jacket.

"You're this Colonel Hogan I keep hearing about?"

The older colonel nodded.

"What is this place? They do some sort of torturing session in here or something? Are they as bad as the...things dressed in black over there?"

Hogan raised an eyebrow at him, looked down at Kalina, then pointed to her once facing him again. He shook his head. Was this man actually asking him if Kalina would torture him for information useful to the Gestapo? The little Klink would not hurt a harmless ladybug, let alone another human being. Kalina hurting someone was like Hochstetter waking up one morning suddenly a kind and caring person.

"Why aren't you speaking?" The younger colonel asked, his anxiety skyrocketing again. "What did she do to you?! She gave you some drugs to try and kill you, didn't she!"

"I wouldn't hurt Colonel Hogan even if my life _depended_ on it!" Kalina exclaimed. "I love Colonel Hogan as if he were my other papa! How _dare_ you think I'd try and murder him!"

Hogan pulled her in for a hug and gently rubbed her back as Kinch barged in to settle the peace.

"Easy, kiddo, easy there," the sergeant said to Kalina. "He just came from being in Gestapo custody. Can't blame him for thinking irrationally."

The little Klink lay her head against Hogan's belly and hugged him tight. The colonel put a hand on the back of her neck and rubbed it while the other remained wrapped around her.

Once certain she had calmed down, Kinch turned to look at Thomason and gave him a respectful salute. "You must be the Colonel's new temporary. Sergeant Kinchloe, but everyone calls me Kinch." He introduced himself.

"Colonel Bert Thomason. Commander of the 497th Bomber Squadron," the colonel answered, holding his hand for a shake. Kinch returned the gesture.

"Forgive little Kalina there," the radioman said. "She's very protective of the Colonel. We _all_ are."

"You mean she's one of _you_?" Thomason asked, pointing at the girl.

"Kalina? She wouldn't hurt a dandelion."

"I've never heard of a _nice_ German before."

"Trust me. They do exist. That's LeBeau over there sweeping. And here at the table we've got Carter and Newkirk."

"Hi there," the technical sergeant said, with a grin.

The young officer gave a salute.

"Sergeant," he greeted. He turned to the Englishman, who was too consumed with his appearance at the moment. Thomason spotted the man's bright blue hair and felt his eyes widen. "My God! What did you do to your hair, Corporal?"

Newkirk sat the mirror down on the table and clenched his teeth shut to keep himself from losing his damn mind.

"If one more person asks me that question, I'm throwing Louis down the well, and I ain't pullin' him back out again," he answered, with a slight bark.

"Hey," the Frenchman remarked, with a glare.

"London brief you on what this is all about?" Kinch asked, ignoring the bickering corporals.

"A little...and I hated every word of it," Thomason said, starting to feel goosebumps form on his skin.

"What do you mean 'hated every word of it'?"

"The fact you willingly go out of this camp and interact with those, those, those _things_ out there! Are you all mad? _Why_?! I signed up for a suicide mission?"

"Not really a suicide mission. Dangerous, yes. Suicide, not really. Not as long as you're not being an idiot outside the wire."

"Like I was on _my_ first assignment," Kalina said, hanging her head in shame. Her big screw-up to that day still filled her with immense guilt. Not only did two agents die in result, but she almost risked exposing Hogan, her friends, and everything they had worked for. It had been so bad at one point that she decided to run away and join a secret Navy battalion in Northwestern France. Hogan and LeBeau had gone after her to bring her home, and the American had almost lost his life to a mad ensign who was fighting more for his own side instead of the Allies or Axis Powers. They were memories she tried to forget, but lurked up on her once and awhile and sent her back to that guilt all over again. (3)

She felt someone rubbing her arm and looked up to find Hogan staring at her with a warm smile. He winked at her, reminding her that she had learned her lesson and had been forgiven many months ago. Her eyes began to twinkle a little and gave back the same smile. She rested her head on the colonel's belly and hugged him again. There was truly no one with a bigger heart than Hogan's.

"Gestapo? Krauts with guns and bombs that can blow all my limbs off? No thank you, I'm gonna sit right here and cry about becoming one of those _kamikaze_ pilots I keep hearing Japan wants to instate," Thomason said, sitting down by Newkirk and beginning to cry again.

"So why didn't you tell your commanding officer you weren't _interested_ in this position?" Carter asked, stupefied.

"That wouldn't do any good, I'm afraid of him." The young colonel sobbed.

"Blimey, the Gov'nor gets sick, and now we get stuck with a blubbering seven year old for a temporary commander." Newkirk grumbled to himself. He picked up his mirror again and groaned. "Look at this bloody mess. This don't even look good with me uniform."

Hogan rolled his eyes and was about to tell Kalina to show Thomason to his room, when the door opened, and Baker came in with a grim look on his face. He ignored everything around him and made his way straight for his commander.

"Colonel, you better get over to Klink's office," the sergeant said, weary.

"Please tell me it ain't another emotionally distraught colonel." The Englishman begged.

"_Worse_," Baker answered. "It's Hochstetter. He's here."

* * *

(1) _Feldwebel_ \- sergeant

(2) _Komm, liebchen_ \- Come on, dear

(3) Reference to my story "Hogan's Heroes: How Do You Solve A Problem Like Kalina?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

"Hochstetter," Newkirk remarked, agitated. "What the bloody hell does _he_ want?"

"I told you, Newkirk," Kalina answered, her arms wrapping around Hogan a bit tighter. The idea of the Gestapo in camp was making all sorts of alarms set off in her head. "Major Hochstetter came here because he has big news to tell Papa. News that could be vital for London."

"Colonel," Kinch said, turning to face Thomason. "Ready for your first assignment?"

"You want, you, you want me to go in _there_? Where those _demons_ are waiting to kill me?" Thomason rambled, pointing in the direction of the kommandantur.

"Hochstetter's not gonna kill you...maybe," Kinch answered.

"_Maybe_!"

"Look, as long as you leave the man be, he won't bug yah."

"And how do I bring back that information if I don't bug him?"

"Just go in there and say you have a question for Klink. Simple as that."

"You're sure."

"Would we lie to you?"

"I don't know, I've only known all of you for five minutes!"

Newkirk, Carter, and Kinch helped the young officer to his feet and escorted him to the door, Hogan, Kalina, Baker, and LeBeau following from behind. When the Englishman opened the door, Baker and LeBeau gave Thomason a gentle shove to start walking. He gave a low moan and took a few steps, when he came to a halt.

"Wait a minute, boys, wait a minute," he said. "I just thought of something. I don't wanna meet this Hochstetter all that much. I better go back and wait in the barracks." He tried to turn around, but Newkirk, LeBeau, and Baker forced him back to face the front, and Thomason began to sob again.

"What's the matter with you?!" The Frenchman spat.

"Bloody hell, he's afraid again." Newkirk growled, with disgust.

"Don't you want that information Hochstetter has to pass on to London?" Kalina asked, gently grabbing the sleeve of Thomason's leather jacket.

"I'd be too scared to _ask_ him for it." The colonel bawled, wiping his eyes with a very damp handkerchief.

"Then I'll come and _help_ you ask him," she said.

"No, I'd rather wait in the barracks."

He tried to turn around again, but no one was letting him through. Newkirk and Kalina took Thomason by the arms and walked with him, while Hogan walked from behind and made sure his younger counterpart did not try anything.

"No, wait a minute. No. No, don't make me go in there," he ordered.

No one listened to him. As they continued walking towards Klink's office, Thomason swallowed a large knot in his throat and had to realize the facts. He was now in enemy territory, and he was not in London anymore.

"Please God, tell me when it's over." He whimpered, and covered his eyes by pulling his hat down over them.

* * *

"Major Hochstetter, I have been expecting your visit for quite sometime now," Klink said, greeting the major and his colleague, another major, with a formal salute. He received one in return from both of them.

"Yes, I would have been here sooner, but this matter has been awful demanding of my attention," Hochstetter answered, taking his leather gloves off.

"What _is_ this matter you're hear to speak of anyways? General Burkhalter said it could be a huge threat towards all camp kommandants and his personnel."

"It's _worse_ than that, Klink. This could be a threat to the entire state."

"The entire state," the kommandant gasped. "But how? What is it that could possibly be that dangerous?"

As Hochstetter was about to respond, the door to Klink's office came to an unexpected open and in stepped Hogan, Newkirk, Thomason, and Kalina quietly. The minute he spotted both Gestapo majors, Thomason began to cry again.

"Look at that. Look at that," he wailed, pointing in Hochstetter's direction. He cried more and made another attempt to flee back to the barracks, but Hogan and Newkirk would not let him through. "I wanna go back to Miami!"

"Who is _that_?" Hochstetter exclaimed, wondering if the American had just lost all sense of reality.

"Major Hochstetter, this is Colonel Bert Thomason. He is currently Colonel Hogan's temporary fill-in as Senior POW," Klink said.

"What for? He looks fine, what's wrong with him?" The short major demanded.

"Ask him a question."

Hochstetter raised a suspicious eyebrow at Klink, but did as told. He took a few steps towards his arch enemy until he was a few feet away from him.

"Hogan," he began. "Would you happen to know a Captain Gary Buckley? Serves in the same military as you do."

The colonel seemed to freeze, not sure how to respond. How would Hochstetter react to finding out he had lost his ability to speak? He swallowed a forming knot in his throat and did the only thing he could do: answer 'I've never heard of him' in sign language.

"Are you deaf, I asked if you know a Captain Buckley. You will answer me at once."

"He _can't_, Major Hochstetter," Kalina answered, staying awful close to the American's side.

"And why is _that_?" The major asked, turning to the small girl.

"He had a stroke, Major Hochstetter," Klink's daughter answered hesitantly. "He doesn't remember _how_ to talk."

"Bah. He's just trying to pull your leg."

"Major Hochstetter, it's true," Klink said, rising to his feet. "Colonel Hogan just came home from the hospital after having an intracranial hemorrhage stroke."

"Intra_cerebral _hemorrhage, Papa," Kalina corrected politely.

"Yes, that," the kommandant answered, then turned back to the major. "It has rendered Colonel Hogan completely mute and in need of a different way of communicating while going under speech therapy. Even with that he may never speak as much as he did again."

"Ow?" Hochstetter questioned, returning his eyes to the small group behind him.

"He's getting angry. Duck and cover!" Thomason exclaimed, and dived underneath the chair sitting below the Hitler picture with a hidden microphone attached to it. He crawled under until most of his body was covered, then curled up into a little ball and positioned himself as if he was practicing a tornado drill back home.

Both Hochstetter and his colleague, Major Jannik Bahnsen, raised their eyebrows at the young American, wondering just exactly how he made it passed the rank of lieutenant. He was worse than Klink was.

"That man must have a brain lesion," Bahnsen said bluntly.

"Why am I not surprised," the leading major answered, with a growl.

"Major Hochstetter, you mentioned a Captain Buckley earlier," the kommandant said, desperate to find a distraction away from his emotionally disturbed Senior POW. "Who is he?"

"_He_ is the reason I am here, Klink." Hochstetter replied.

Klink's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped ever so slightly.

"What?" He gasped.

"Captain Buckley is currently the most dangerous man in all of Germany. He is assumed to be armed and extremely violent. The _Fuhrer_ has given state wide orders for anyone that spots him to shoot him on sight. At no time is he supposed to be confronted or disturbed." The major explained.

"Oh Major, how can one simple American be any harm?" Klink asked, with a light chuckle.

"This simple American has murdered seven kommandants, four Gestapo officers, and five of his own Allies." Hochstetter gnarled through his teeth.

"Seven kommandants?" The colonel asked, beginning to tremor a bit. His complexion drained of all color within a matter of seconds.

"Three were shot, two stabbed, one strangled and found hanging in his closet, and one burned alive and found in the trunk of his abandoned staff car."

"Do I dare ask what happened to the others?"

"Only if you wish to have nightmares tonight, Colonel," Bahnsen said.

Klink gulped and began to feel lightheaded.

"I'd prefer that not happen," he answered shaky.

Bahnsen glared at the kommandant with his dead, nearly black coal eyes, then turned to look back near the door. His gaze landed on Kalina, who was staring back at him white as a sheet while her arms were wrapped around Hogan. She began to shiver violently as she looked back at the man who she thought only existed in her mind. Who came and haunted her most nights in unspeakable nightmares. It was as if she were having one now, but it was too real to be her imagination going wild. She closed her eyes, fought back from whimpering, then buried her face into Hogan's belly, shaking even more. She felt a gentle hand rub her back and looked up to find the American looking at her with empathy. He pointed at the tall Gestapo officer gawking at her, then at her, then to the side of his head. Not even words needed to be spoken for her to understand what he was saying: 'That's the man in your nightmares, isn't it?'

Little Kalina nodded, hot tears burning down her face, then Hogan placed her head against him and held her close. He felt her arms wrap around him as tight as a vice and resumed gently rubbing her back. He was not letting this tall Gestapo major harm or taunt the small teenager if it was the last thing he ever did.

Bahnsen glared at Kalina harder before finally speaking to her.

"I don't like how close this child is to that thing standing there."

"Oh, Major Bahnsen, Colonel Hogan is merely harmless," Klink said, waving the comment off with a chuckle.

"_Harmless_," Hochstetter exclaimed. "That man is the most wanted person in Germany."

"I thought uh...I thought that this Captain Buckley was the most wanted man in Germany," Thomason said, quaking under the chair.

"Who is this man?!" Hochstetter bellowed, shaking his fist in the air.

"I'll be quiet! I'll be quiet, please don't shoot me." Thomason cried, and started to sob again.

Ignoring the young American completely, Bahnsen made his way towards Hogan, who tightened his hold around Kalina. She lifted her eyes up to find the tall Gestapo officer hovering over her and latched onto her second papa as tight as she could and felt her tears coming faster. Her heart was throbbing in her throat and started to feel like she was having trouble breathing.

"Step away from him," Bahnsen ordered.

Kalina shuddered and shook her head 'no'.

"Get out of here, or I will shoot him in between the eyes!"

She latched onto Hogan even tighter and although shaking in her shoes, she narrowed her eyes at the man.

"No! If you hurt Colonel Hogan, I'll, I'll send General Burkhalter after you!" She wailed. The response she got from Bahnsen was a mere laugh.

"General Burkhalter, huh?" He asked, amused. "What reason would General Burkhalter want anything to do with you?"

"General Burkhalter is my commanding officer," Klink said, rising to his feet. His eyes were cold, his posture straight, all indications that Iron Eagle Klink had just emerged. The Gestapo could threaten and scare him all they pleased, but no one threatened or harmed his baby girl. He would rip that man to shreds with his own talons if necessary, but they would not lay so much as a single finger on his daughter's sweet head.

Bahnsen scoffed. "Sure he is," he answered. "And Himmler is my uncle."

Klink glared hard at the man, grabbed his phone, and put the receiver to his ear. "Get me General Burkhalter in Berlin. Priority call," he ordered, his eyes never leaving the major's sight. It got just the reaction the kommandant wanted: Bahnsen froze in his spot, and his pupils dilated twice in size. The major took in a deep breath and narrowed his brows at Klink.

"Very well, Colonel," he said coolly. He snapped his attention back to Kalina, who buried her face into Hogan's belly again. The American held her close while rubbing her head, and Newkirk even stepped in a bit to make a statement, both men staring Bahnsen straight in the eye. "I'll be back later this evening. I've got my eyes on you, so don't you try anything with me. You may be an eaglet, but even eaglets can be killed by wolves. I'll get you, little _fraulein_...and your Colonel Hogan, too!" The tall major stormed out of Klink's office, looked back at Kalina once more with a warning gaze, then slammed the door behind him.

Not able to contain herself any longer, Kalina let out a few soft cries. Newkirk gently rubbed the back of her head, and Hogan never let her go. There was nothing more he wanted to do than hush her and tell her everything was alright, but his actions would have to speak for his words now.

"Hogan," Klink said. "Maybe it would be best if you and Corporal Newkirk took Kalina to your barracks while I finish up with Major Hochstetter. I'll be in to check on her in a little bit."

The American nodded and escorted the little teenager out of the office, the Englishman following from behind, when Klink stopped him.

"And _please_. Take him with you," the kommandant said, pointing towards Thomason.

"I was afraid you would say that." Newkirk grumbled to himself. He reluctantly made his way to the chair his current commander curled up under and shook him by the arm. "Colonel. Colonel Thomason, we're leaving now."

"For Miami?" Thomason asked, a wide grin on his face.

"No, but it's the next best thing to it."

The colonel's long frown returned.

"I thought it was too good to be true." He whimpered, getting to his feet. The two Allied flyers headed out of the office, and Newkirk closed the door behind him.

Klink let out a heavy breath of air and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm starting to think maybe _I_ should escape from this camp." He grumbled.

"I can arrange for that very easily," Hochstetter answered, with a growl.

"Major Hochstetter, would it be possible for you to be a temporary guard here? Just until this Captain Buckley has been...terminated?"

"I have already ordered Major Bahnsen to be stationed here until Captain Buckley has been detained and executed. I can assure you he is just as competent as I am when it comes to guarding and security."

"I think for my daughter's sake it should be you, Major...a Gestapo officer that _doesn't_ terrorize her in her sleep."

"Klink, what are you talking about?"

"Kalina has been having nightmares, _awful_ nightmares, about the Gestapo for the past week and a half, and I have no idea why. Oh Major Hochstetter, it's terrible. Hearing your innocent little girl scream and cry as she sleeps, latching onto you for dear life the moment she wakes up to see if I'm real or not. It's the most heartbreaking thing a parent could ever witness."

"_Heartbreaking_, Klink, it's _good _that she fears the Gestapo. It means she has not lost her mind like everyone else in this camp."

"_I _haven't lost my mind, Major. I know every single matter that happens here at Stalag 13."

"Klink, you wouldn't know your way out of a paper bag."

"A paper bag, that's very funny, Major," the colonel answered, his jovial and pompous attitude fading into one of fear and cowardice.

"Major Bahnsen will be here later this evening to set up his base. Anything else that comes up, I am one phone call away. As of now, I must return to Headquarters. The sooner Buckley is found, the sooner I can get a good night's sleep again." Hochstetter continued, putting his gloves back on. He and Klink exchanged salutes, then the short major made his leave.

Once hearing the outer office door close, Klink scoffed as he picked up his pen and went back to his legal document. "Get a good night's sleep," he grumbled. "Try getting a good night's sleep with a newborn in the house."

* * *

The fake bunk bed opened to expose the tunnel entrance, and Kinch crawled up into the barracks. He banged the hidden mechanism to hide the opening and made his way over to Hogan, who was still holding Kalina close to his side. Thomason, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau sat at the table discussing everything that had taken place inside Klink's office.

"Message from the underground, Colonel," the radioman said, handing over a blue slip of paper. "One of their agents has important microfilm regarding a new weapon the Gestapo is developing. They want two people to go out to the Hofbrau tomorrow night and meet with the agent to collect it. We're to immediately send it to London once in our possession."

Hogan took the note with his left hand and read it for himself. He nodded and handed it back to his second in command. He made several hand movements, ordering Kinch to notify London and report the situation to them, and the sergeant nodded in response.

"Right, Sir," he said. Kinch was about to turn around, when he noticed the severe discoloration in Kalina's face. Her arms were wrapped around Hogan tight and almost resembled a zombie. Momentarily forgetting his task at hand, Kinch made his way back to Hogan and Kalina and knelt down to get a better look at the little teenager. "Hey kiddo, you alright there? What's going on, Kalina?"

"Hochstetter's bloody bastard of a colleague threatened to kill the Gov'nor right in front of her face, _that's _what," Newkirk answered, with a growl. The Englishman took out a cigarette and lit it.

"You want something to drink, _ma petite ami_?" LeBeau asked.

Kalina gently nodded. "Milk, _bitte_," she said quietly.

LeBeau rose from his spot at the table to grab Kalina's starry night mug, and Kinch rose to his feet and headed back for the tunnel once certain his little friend was alright.

"Alright, folks," Thomason said, getting to his feet and clapping his hands. "Here's how this is gonna work. Sergeant Carter, Corporal Newkirk, you two go out to the Hofbrau tomorrow night, meet with this agent, then come back as soon as it's done. I'll stay here and man down the fort."

"You're not gonna come with us?" Carter asked, dumbfounded.

"To where?" The young colonel replied.

"To the Hofbrau tomorrow night."

"Oh, no, no no no. I must stay behind. I have to uh...I have to…" Thomason cleared his throat before finishing. "Fix the sink."

"The sink doesn't need to be fixed," LeBeau said, standing next to Hogan and Kalina. The little Klink was taking grateful gulps of her milk while Hogan gently rubbed her back.

"Oh," Thomason said. "Well then, I have a...there's something I uh...there's a leak in...I just…" The colonel darted for Hogan's quarters and slammed the door behind him before finishing his thought. While Hogan rolled his eyes in response, Newkirk shook his head in shame.

"Blimey, Colonel! That bloody man's gonna send all your work down in flames!" The Englishman exclaimed.

"I'm starting to wonder if we really _should_ have had Crittendon as the Colonel's temporary," Carter said, twiddling with his thumbs.

"I would rather much more have _Monsieur Pleurnichard_ than that bumbling moron for a commanding officer," LeBeau remarked, crossing his arms with frustration. It earned a warning glare from Hogan in return. Despite his fellow counterpart being an absolute idiot, Crittendon was the colonel's equal, and he would make sure that the man was treated just as fairly. (1)

"Colonel Hogan," Kalina's small voice came. Hogan looked down at her, his eyes softened. "Isn't there something you can do to make it so Major Bahnsen doesn't come back here? I don't want him here, he scares me. If there's _any_ Gestapo man that doesn't scare me right now, it's Major Hochstetter. Get _him_ stationed here instead."

The colonel brought the small girl close to him and resumed rubbing her back. He told her in sign language that Bahnsen would not come within twenty feet of her if he had anything to do with it. She was safe as long as he was there.

"It's not _me_ I'm worried about. It's _you_! You and Newkirk heard him, he'd come after you eventually. He'd get me and you, too." She continued, her voice shaking.

Hogan gave her a warm smile and again moved his hands around in different gestures. 'I'm not scared of Bahnsen or his threats. If I can fight from nearly dying three times after being shot down, I can face some creep in a uniform,' he said.

"Don't you worry a thing, little mate," Newkirk said. "That Bahnsen bloke won't lay one hand on the Gov'nor if it's the last thing I do."

"_Oui_," LeBeau added. "He will never get past my French fury and fighting."

Kalina clenched her eyes shut, shuddered, then buried her face into Hogan's belly. As the colonel placed a hand on the back of her head and held her close, she wondered why, despite what everyone was telling her, she had a gut feeling telling her something very bad was just around the corner.

* * *

(1) _Monsieur Pleurnichard_ \- Mr. Crybaby


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

It was late in the night, and Hogan was fast asleep in the lower bunk of his bed while Thomason was getting a tour of the tunnels by Kinch. Everyone else had either turned in or were trying to sneak their way around camp to the different parties prisoners usually held on Friday nights. The colonel wore a light blue pajama top and bottom with his blue bathrobe, covered underneath his blankets and sheets, and had his hand resting on top of his belly. He rested easy on the fluffy pillow Kalina had convinced her father into letting him have.

He was deep in sleep, when the bedroom door slammed open and the lights came on abruptly. Kalina, dressed in her white nightgown and light pink bathrobe, jolted inside to the colonel's side, who was alright sitting up with a concerned look to his face. The little teenager's eyes were wet and red, her pupils dilated to the size of saucers, and seemed to just be barely fighting against the violent shaking threatening to make her collapse.

Hogan pulled her to his side and held her close as she broke down and let out a few sobs. Kalina latched onto the colonel as tight as she could and buried her face into his chest. Hogan gently rubbed her back, knowing exactly what was wrong. Another nightmare. And it looked like it had been her worst one yet.

"It was _him_ this time, Colonel Hogan," she whimpered, turning her eyes upwards. "It was that Major Bahnsen this time. You couldn't scream for help and, and...I couldn't save you. I couldn't find you until it was too late. He, he...Colonel Hogan!" The small girl began to sob uncontrollably, prompting Hogan to rock her a bit. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and continued to hold her until the crying died down. When the hyperventilating ceased and the sobs had calmed, the American rubbed Kalina's arm to make her look up at him. Hogan gave a kind smile and spoke to her in sign language. 'I'm alright, hon. I'm alright. No one's gonna hurt me. I promise.'

Kalina closed her eyes as new tears burned down her face, then buried her face back into Hogan and hugged him tight. The colonel's arms wrapped around her again and held her close. He resumed rubbing her back and rocking her, when the door again came flying open to reveal an outraged LeBeau with Newkirk tailing behind him.

"Colonel!" The Frenchman bellowed. "That is _it_! Pierre has gone too far this time! Look at this. Look at this!" LeBeau pulled down his shirt collar to reveal a tattoo of Great Britain's flag on the top of his collar bone.

"I _warned_ you to keep one eye open tonight." Newkirk sneered.

"What will my fellow countrymen say when they see this?"

"It'll go away in a few months...just like me bleedin' blue hair."

Newkirk earned a sharp glare back from the French corporal.

"_Pourquoi tu n'es pas bon, sale pourri, pauvre excuse d'un Britannique_…" LeBeau's finishing statement was cut off by a loud snap of Hogan's fingers. He gazed at both corporals with a harsh glimmer in his brown eyes. He gestured with his head towards the small girl wrapped inside his arms. (1)

Seeing their little friend in so much distress, Newkirk and LeBeau felt long frowns come their faces, both seeming to forget their current argument for the moment.

"Another nightmare, _ma petite ami_?" LeBeau asked softly.

Kalina nodded, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her bathrobe.

"It was Major Bahnsen, too," she answered, meek. "I was frantically searching through cells at Gestapo Headquarters. An underground agent that I can't remember the name of gave me a lead that Major Bahnsen had kidnapped Colonel Hogan and took him there...but he wasn't able to scream for help. I finally found his cell, and Colonel Hogan was...he...he was…" The small Klink shook her head and began to cry again. She could not think of it. The horror that she had only witnessed moments ago in her mind. And Bahnsen's smile. That eerie, mortifying, crooked grin of his that showed his pleasure and glee over the sinful crime he had just committed. The one that proved to a person someone had no soul inside them. Just a hollow out monster that remained behind. She had never feared another thing or person more than she feared Bahnsen.

The colonel hugged and rocked her again, giving her another kiss on the head. Kalina tightened her hold around Hogan, fearing that something bad would happen to him if she were to let go even for just a moment.

As Newkirk was about to speak, Klink came swooping into the smaller room, his swagger stick clutched under his arm, wearing a scowl on his face.

"What's going on here?" He bellowed. He spotted his little girl with her face buried into Hogan, and his scowl hardened at the two corporals. "What did you two do to my little Kalina? Which one of you made her cry? Speak now, or everyone in this barracks gets two weeks of revoked recreational privileges!"

"Colonel Klink," LeBeau began. "I demand Pierre serve thirty days in the cooler for the crime he's committed!"

"_Me_! You're the one who bloody dyed me hair blue!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Silence," Klink ordered. "Back to bed, both of you. Before I decide to throw _all_ of you in the cooler!"

Though the duo wished to fight it out a bit more, both corporals reluctantly followed the German's command and made their way back to their bunks for the night. When both of them were gone, Klink turned around and saw his Senior POW doing all he could to slowly calm a hysterical Kalina down. The American looked up at the kommandant and frowned. He did not need to speak to get the point across to the girl's father. Klink's frown grew longer than his face, his heart breaking while watching his daughter be tormented by horrific images in her head. He just could not figure it out, though. Sure his little girl had always been afraid of the Gestapo, but it had never gotten _this_ bad before, and he had no idea why it started all of a sudden. And because he did not know what was causing her nightmares to occur, he could do nothing to fix it either.

"Another nightmare, _sußes_?" He asked sympathetically.

All Kalina could do was nod in response.

"Oh baby, no Gestapo personnel is going to come near you within a hundred foot radius around here. _No one_ is hurting my baby girl. They will face the wrath of the Iron Eagle and General Burkhalter before they can do any further. You are completely safe here, _sußes_. I _promise_ you that," Klink told her confidently.

"It's not _me_ I'm scared for; it's you and Colonel Hogan. He stabs you. He shoots you. He beats you in the head until…" Kalina could not finish without crying more.

"_Who_, baby? _Who_ does this?"

"Major Bahnsen. He kills both of you in front of my eyes before torturing me to death!"

The German colonel walked over until he was in front of his daughter, then knelt down before her and rubbed the back of her head like he always did when she was scared. He looked her straight in the eyes, his holding both comfort and sombreness. She lifted her face from being buried in Hogan's chest, and she looked back at him intently, her red stained eyes never leaving his sight.

"Consider it done," Klink said firmly. "I will call General Burkhalter tomorrow morning, and I will have him _order_ Major Hochstetter to take Bahnsen's place. If someone makes my baby afraid, then _everyone_ is afraid."

Kalina sniffled and felt Hogan wipe away some of her tears before she spoke. "Really, Papa?"

"_Kreuz mein Herz_. Anything for my little _sußes_," Klink answered, with a small smile and wink. He got a faint grin in return. Klink kissed the side of his daughter's head, rubbed the back of it a bit more, then rose to his feet and directed his attention to Hogan. (2) "Have Schultz walk her back to my quarters when she's calmed down more," he ordered, sounding more like a friend's request than a military officer's command.

Hogan gave a sincere nod, releasing some tension from the kommandant's body.

Klink gave his American counterpart a salute, and Hogan returned the gesture.

After giving his daughter one more kiss on the head and a few back rubs, Klink turned on his heels and disappeared into the darkness.

Once they heard the door to the barracks close with a soft shut, Hogan turned his eyes back down at Kalina and gave her a warm grin while gently rubbing her back. The little teenager wiped her eyes with her bathrobe sleeves, sniffled, then looked up at her friend and other papa. "Colonel Hogan," she whimpered. "C, can I sleep in here tonight? Just so I can wake up and make sure you're okay."

The colonel raised a curious eyebrow, turned to his bed, then back to Kalina and pointed at it questionably. The small girl nodded.

Hogan pursed his lips together and had all sorts of things running through his mind. He wanted to make Kalina feel better and do anything he could to ensure that, but he did not want to put any other assumptions into people's minds. Then he had another worry. If he permitted her to sleep in his room for one night, what if she became depended on it in order to get a good night's sleep? He did not want it to become an every night thing. Especially if he was having a late night meeting with his men and a few drinks or even worse: another woman. And some of those conversations he had with other adults were ones he sometimes preferred Kalina had no knowledge of. In fact, had it not been for his stroke and losing his ability to speak, Kalina would have no knowledge of Captain Buckley currently.

He looked at his vacant bed for a moment, then turned to the little teenager sitting beside him. She was looking up at him with her sweet blue eyes, her pupils still concerningly large, and a frown. Hogan let out a breath of air, his heart breaking in two. _Damn, Klink wasn't kidding when he said she was good at the puppy dog look_, he thought to himself. He gazed at his bed once more, then back at Kalina and let out a surrendering sigh. He nodded and patted his bed.

Hogan crawled back under his covers and again patted the bed. Kalina slowly made her way under the covers and tried to adjust to the more than uncomfortable mattress provided. Once she had gotten somewhat comfy, Hogan lay his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes. He was starting to fall back into sleep, when he felt something suddenly on his chest. He opened his eyes and looked down to find little Kalina with her head resting at the bottom of his chest, her arms wrapped around his belly. Her eyes were closed and seemed to finally be in some peace. The soft breathing indicated that her adrenaline had finally died down.

The colonel simply looked at her for a few moments, then let a warm smile make its way to his face. Hogan softly rubbed Kalina's head, wrapped his right arm around her, then with his other lying on his belly, he closed his eyes and finally returned to his deep sleep.

The door to the small room again opened, only it was Thomason that stepped inside this time. "What is with all the yelling, people? It's enough to wake the dead…" the young colonel froze the moment he realized what he had said and gulped. "Please no one wake the dead, and that's an order." He threw his cap onto the desk and stopped taking his jacket off midway when he saw Kalina and Hogan sleeping soundly. The little Klink was holding onto the colonel like a child would to their father after having a horrible nightmare. Thomason had been made aware of Kalina's recent nightmares taunting her, but no one told him what they were. After her earlier altercation with Bahnsen, he assumed the Gestapo major was only making matters worse.

Thomason was not sure what to do first, but felt a grin form on his face. He may not have known how to run an espionage/sabotage operation stationed in the middle of a POW camp, he may not have known how to sweet talk his way out of something with the Gestapo or other Germans, but he did know one thing: he liked Kalina.

* * *

Morning soon came, and while Klink was busy keeping his promise to Kalina, Newkirk and Carter were outside in the compound tossing a baseball back and forth to one another. The others remained in the barracks with Hogan, who was having his first day of speech therapy with Sergeant Wilson.

"How do you think Colonel Hogan's therapy is going?" The young sergeant asked, a hint of concern hidden in his voice.

"I haven't the bloodiest idea. His stroke was pretty bad, mate. I'd be surprised if he managed to say a few letters for his first session," Newkirk answered, looking in the direction of the colonel's room.

"You think he'll ever talk again?"

"If anyone can do it, it's the Gov'nor. He nearly died three times when he was shot down, he's certainly capable of learning how to speak again."

"You know, I read somewhere that if you have a stroke you're 15 times as likely to have another one. What if Colonel Hogan has a second stroke? What if it's worse than this last one?"

"Andrew, yah worry more than me Aunt Marla." Newkirk swung his arm back and threw the ball in Carter's direction...only it was thrown a little too hard. The ball flew right past the sergeant, flew into Klink's open office window, and the two flyers could hear a loud crash that sounded like something shattering on the floor. The Englishman's eyes widened to the point they felt like they would fall out.

Carter looked behind him, his muscles tensing as he thought of the impending doom he and his friend were about to face, then turned back to face Newkirk and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oops," he said, meek.

* * *

"General Burkhalter, I find that it is absolutely necessary to have Major Hochstetter stationed here based on the current circumstances," Klink said, talking to his superior over the phone. "His colleague that's currently here, a Major Jannik Bahnsen, is doing nothing but causing chaos in my camp." The general said something on the other line that made Klink's serious look turn into a quivering frown. "My daughter...General Burkhalter, her nightmares have gotten twice as bad since Major Bahnsen's assignment here. She had one so bad last night that she was up crying for fifteen minutes straight..._Jawohl, Herr General_, I know that Major Hochstetter has his hands tied up at the moment, but is there any way that he could be both stationed in camp and…" the kommandant never finished his thought, when he saw a baseball come flying into his window. It crashed into his obnoxious coat of arms, sending it falling to the ground and breaking in several places.

Klink shot from his feet and entered a brief state of shock. When his eyes landed on the baseball rolling towards his file cabinet, he let out a steamy breath of air and returned to his phone call, Burkhalter wondering what all the noise was on the colonel's side of the line.

"_Herr General_, I'll have to call you back. Something urgent's come up. Huh?...Oh yes, _Heil Hitler_." Klink hung up the phone, slowly turned his head towards the window, and stormed his way over and looked outside. He found Newkirk and Carter staring at him with sheepish grins. The sergeant gave a short wave.

The kommandant shook his fist in fury.

"Why you…" He snapped his attention to the front gate, where his senior sergeant was standing guard. "Schultz! Bring these two to my office right away!"

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_," Schultz said, with a sharp salute.

Klink shook his fist once more with a loud 'humph' and closed his windows with a loud shut.

Schultz waddled his way over to the two flyers and looked at them dumbfounded.

"What did you two do?" He asked.

"I don't know," Carter said.

"But I'm sure we're about to find out." Newkirk added.

* * *

(1) _Pourquoi tu n'es pas bon, sale pourri, pauvre excuse d'un Britannique_…- Why you no good, dirty rotten, poor excuse for a Britain...

(2) _Kreuz mein Herz_ \- Cross my heart


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

"700 years," Klink scowled, holding two parts of his shattered coat of arms. "700 years this coat of arms has been in my family, and now it's completely destroyed! This was given to me by my father who got it from his father, then his father, then his father, so on and so on. This went back all the way to the Dark Ages!"

"Wouldn't you prefer to have something that's _not_ dark and depressing?" Carter asked innocently. He earned a glare back from Newkirk.

"Andrew," he said. "Shut up, or I'll break your bleedin' neck."

"700 years of history. 700 years of family generations, and now it's gone," Klink complained. "This coat of arms was my mother and father's _wedding_ present!"

"A little glue and some duct tape, and yah never know the difference," Newkirk said, taking a drag on a cigarette.

"Glue and some duct tape. Corporal Newkirk, this was a family heirloom. I can never get this back again thanks to you and your stupid baseball." The kommandant exclaimed, with a shake of his fist.

"We're sorry, Colonel," Carter said, hanging his head. "I can try fixing it for you if you want."

"You two have done _more_ than enough. Now I may put up with being attacked myself, but when you start attacking my family, _that_ is where I draw the line," Klink turned his eyes to his sergeant, who was standing near the door. "Schultz, take these men for a 48 hour sentence in the cooler."

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_," Schultz answered, with a salute.

"Now wait just a bloody minute, it's not like we tried to do this on purpose. It was an accident, Kommandant!" Newkirk cried.

"Get them out of here," Klink ordered.

The two flyers hung their heads and sulked out of the office, Schultz following from the rear. The door closed with a soft 'click', and the colonel returned to gazing at his broken coat of arms somberly. When he saw Newkirk, Carter, and Schultz going passed his outside window, he opened the door and poked his head out into the outer office.

"_Fraulein Hilda_," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have any glue lying around somewhere, do you?"

* * *

Thomason opened the door to his and Hogan's room quietly and closed it behind him. He walked over to Kinch's side, who was standing near the front end of the bunks. Before the two of them were Hogan and Wilson; Hogan sitting in his desk chair, and the camp medic standing in front of him giving instructions.

"How's he doing?" The younger colonel asked softly.

"_Incredibly_. Not only did he get most of the alphabet, he can also say a few words," Kinch answered, with a wide grin.

"You're kidding," Thomason gasped. He turned his attention to Hogan. "Say something, Colonel."

The older officer gave a tired smile and swallowed before speaking slowly.

"K, Kkkkkk Kinch, wa, wa, waaaater. Kinch...water."

The radioman smiled and walked over to Hogan's footlocker where a pitcher of water sat. He grabbed the glass sitting next to it and poured a generous amount, then made his way back to his commander and handed him the glass. Hogan smiled back and did sign language for 'thank you' before taking a drink.

"Well, all be," Thomason said. "And that Dr. Klaussner didn't think he was going to speak again."

"The boys and Kalina are gonna _flip_ when they hear the Colonel can talk a little." Kinch added, crossing his arms.

"Alright, Colonel, one more word, and will call it quits for today," Wilson said, highly impressed with how well Hogan had come today. He could not get all the letters yet, but he could say several of them either alone or within a simple word. It was not fluent, fluid speech yet, but he had made a terrific improvement from when he was brought home from the hospital. "I want you to try and say 'tomorrow'. It's got that nasty 'm' in there, but it might help with the word starting with a letter like 't' and 'k'."

"Tttt To…" the colonel paused and seemed to almost try and force the letter out of his mouth. The only thing he got was a long 'mmmmmmmm' hum. Seeing him trying to push himself, Wilson put a hand on Hogan's shoulder and gently shook it.

"Easy, Colonel, easy," he told him. "Don't try and force yourself. It'll come with time. The most important thing right now is to make sure we keep your stress levels down. We don't want you to have another stroke."

Hogan let out a somber sigh, but nodded. He knew the man was right, but he still hated it. He was sick of not being able to talk and give commands to his team. He wanted to speak like he did before. He wanted to talk and sing, he wanted to tell his men and Kalina funny stories of his time in college and stationed in London, he wanted to chat Klink's ear off so much that they started to bleed. However, he had to be grateful for what he currently was capable of doing. He knew about strokes well since they ran in his family's genetics. Some people were not able to even say a single letter of the alphabet. Some people never spoke again after having one. With those in mind, he was at peace again. At least he could ask for a glass of water now.

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon, and we'll pick up where we left off." Wilson continued.

Hogan nodded, grinning, then did sign language for 'thank you'.

Wilson bid the three men farewell, grabbed his black medical bag, then exited out of the small room, quickly replaced by LeBeau. The Frenchman made his way over to Thomason, his expression slightly grim.

"Colonel Thomason, we have a little problem, Sir," he said.

"A problem, what kind of problem?" The younger colonel asked.

"Pierre and André just got escorted to the cooler. Schultz says they'll be there for the next 48 hours for destroying Klink's coat of arms."

"They what?!" Thomason ululated.

"Thank God, I hated that thing." Kinch grumbled to himself.

"48 hours! I need those two for that assignment tonight!" Thomason continued.

"You could try doing what Colonel Hogan does and trick Klink into releasing them," LeBeau suggested.

"You want, you want, you mean you want me to go back _in there_? In enemy territory?" The colonel stuttered frantically, pointing in the direction of the Kommandantur.

"_Monsieur Colonel_, we are already _in_ enemy territory. Why do you think we are in a prisoner of war camp?"

Thomason moaned.

"I don't _want _to go in there," he whined. An idea sparked a dead lightbulb in his brain and turned to Hogan's second in command. "You go do it," he said nonchalantly.

Kinch reached over and tapped the eagle on his lapel. "_You're_ the one with these, Sir," he said, being careful not to offend him. "The kommandant is just a man like any other. You can do this."

Thomason turned his eyes towards the small Frenchman.

"_You_ go do it, then," he ordered.

"_I'm_ not going in there," LeBeau exclaimed. "Klink sees this tattoo on my shoulder, and I will be the laughing stock in this camp for the rest of my life!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have dyed Newkirk's hair blue," the sergeant answered, crossing his arms. He earned a scowl from the corporal in response.

"Quiet." He grumbled.

Forced into using his last resort, Thomason stepped forward towards Hogan, who was taking another drink of water. The older colonel turned his attention to his temporary step-in once setting down his glass and placing his hand on his belly.

"Colonel, tell one of them to go in there and get Corporal Newkirk and Sergeant Carter out of confinement. They'll listen to you better than they will to me. Please, Colonel, _please_! I beg you, please," Thomason said, putting his hands together at the last part.

Hogan raised his eyebrow and eyed his younger counterpart firmly. He did not need to speak in order to get his point across. The response made Thomason groan and march out of the barracks reluctantly.

"Why did I decide to become a colonel in the _first_ place?" He asked himself.

"More importantly, how did you _become_ a colonel?" LeBeau remarked, once the young colonel was out of hearing range.

Kinch shook his head in response and pinched the bridge of his nose.

* * *

Klink was attempting to glue the two black sword looking objects back to the bright blue reef when he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in," he said, never lifting his eyes from his current project.

The kommandant's door quietly opened, and Thomason made his way inside. He gave the German a sharp salute and stood straight at attention.

"Colonel Bert Thomason reporting for duty, Sir!" He barked.

Klink slowly looked up from his broken coat of arms and raised an eyebrow at the American. He was in no mood for any games or mischief at that moment. His tone of voice expressed that very clearly when he responded. "Colonel Thomason, what is it? I am _not_ in the mood for any funny business."

The American darted his eyes to the large object sitting on Klink's desk, and his facial expression became puzzled. He cocked his head slightly to the right, desperately trying to figure out what the thing was, but it was more than hopeless. He had no choice but to ask for clarification. "Colonel Klink," he started hesitantly. "What is it you're messing with there?"

"Why don't you ask those two hoodlums sitting in the cooler," Klink remarked. "My family's had this coat of arms for over 700 years, and those two _dummkopfs_ destroyed it. Now I have to sit here and figure out how to put the _verdammte_ thing back together again."

"Hey, I got a great idea. How about we uh, put this all behind us and uh...let them out?"

"Put this all behi…" Klink got to his feet, his eyes bulging from their sockets. He frowned and gawked at the young American almost immediately after. "Colonel Thomason, are you downright stupid, or have you completely lost your mind?"

Thomason was silent for a brief moment before sheepishly replying, "Which answer gets me sent home?"

The kommandant let out a groan and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Aw Colonel, look. I'll buy you a new one...do they even _make_ coat of arms anymore," Thomason said, the last part to himself.

"Buy me a new one," Klink walked over until he was just feet away from the young man. "You can buy me a _hundred_ coat of arms, but you can't buy back 700 years worth of history and sentimental value!"

"I'm sorry, Sir...can you still release Corporal Newkirk and Sergeant Carter?"

"No!"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Kommandant!"

"Diiiiissssssmiiiiiisssed!"

Thomason gave a sharp salute and basically sprinted out of the kommandantur headed for barracks two.

Klink stared at the door a moment longer before he heard the outer office door shut. Once certain his temporary Senior POW had exited the building, he turned to look back at his desk with the broken coat of arms sitting atop. The one black sword he had so far managed to glue back on slowly tilted to the left before collapsing and breaking off the reef again. The German's muscles tensed and gave a loud 'humph' with a shake of his fist.

* * *

Kinch sat at the table playing a game of solitaire, while LeBeau was at the stove hovering over a pot. The two were consumed in their activities that they momentarily failed to notice the door to the barracks open. Thomason stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him, and walked his way towards the table. The radioman looked up from his game and locked eyes with his current commander.

"How did it go, Colonel?" He asked. "Did you get Newkirk and Carter out?"

Thomason scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Did I get them out. What kind of question is that? Why I, boy I, did I…" the colonel cleared his throat and frowned. "No."

"What do you _mean_ 'no'?" LeBeau exclaimed.

"I panicked, alright? That bald man is feisty when upset!"

"Klink? Feisty? _Il est un poulet géant_." (1)

"Thank you! _Someone_ agrees with me."

The Frenchman tilted his head downward and slapped his face.

"And what do you plan on doing for the assignment tonight, then?" Kinch questioned, raising an eyebrow at Thomason.

The officer pursed his lips and thought to himself for a long while. He turned back to gaze at LeBeau, at Kinch, again at LeBeau, then back to facing what was ahead of him. An idea finally came to his mind, and he snapped his fingers while wearing a bright grin on his face.

"I got it," he said. "_You_ two go out and do it."

"Are you crazy?!" LeBeau shouted. "You will get Kinch _killed_ if you send him out!"

"If I'm caught and/or shot, it will lead straight back to Stalag 13 and _you_, Colonel," Kinch answered.

"Fine, send little Kalina with Corporal LeBeau. No one would suspect _her_ of any wrongdoing." Thomason replied.

"Not with her still so shaken up from her last assignment. There's no way she'd be able to stay calm if she saw someone from the Gestapo walk in. Besides, she's too well recognized as the kommandant's daughter. And with that Bahnsen creep following her everywhere, there's no way she would get away without being recognized." The sergeant continued.

"Well you don't expect _me_ to go out there tonight, do you?"

Kinch and LeBeau fell dead silent, diverting their eyes away from the colonel, who was succumbing to sudden nausea in his stomach.

"You want me to go out there tonight, don't you," he said, not needing an answer from anyone to confirm his growing suspicions.

"You're the only one we got left, Sir," Kinch told him calmly. "We can't send LeBeau out all alone. Not with Captain Buckley out there wandering around. You heard Major Hochstetter; he's killed five of our own countrymen. There's no telling when or _who_ be will kill next."

"Oh, but you're perfectly fine with _me_ dying."

"Colonel, look," the radioman said, getting to his feet. "We need you to go out with LeBeau tonight to that meeting. If you blow this, Colonel Hogan is _really_ going to die. And if he dies, we _all_ die. And you'll leave sweet Kalina with nothing but grief and agonizing heartache. She loves that man in there as if he were her other father, you really want to live the rest of your life knowing you severely hurt an innocent child like that?"

Thomason's shoulders slumped and gave a pout while letting out a breath of air. Now _that_ he could not argue with. He would never be able to live with the fact of hurting Kalina in such a way. It was very clear how much she loved and respected Hogan. Both as a commander and another father. She was too young to be facing such a horrific war, and the colonel wanted to spare her as much tears and bloodshed as possible. He gave a soft whine, but gave in.

"Alright, I'll go to the stupid Hofbro," he said.

Kinch raised his eyebrow, cautiously eyeing his new commanding officer.

"It's the Hof_brau_," he remarked.

Thomason gave a heavy sigh, his frown only growing longer.

"This is gonna be a long assignment."

* * *

(1) _Il est un poulet géant_ \- He is a giant chicken


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

"You wanted to see me, Colonel?" Wilson asked, stepping inside the small room in barracks two. He grinned. "Don't tell me you want another therapy session _already_."

Hogan, who was lying in bed with his hands over his belly, gave a silent smirk in response. It quickly faded and soon replaced by a somber look. He did sign language to explain, and the camp medic understood every word of it.

Wilson frowned. "You're worried about Kalina and her nightmares, aren't you," he said.

Hogan let out a heavy breath of air through his nose and nodded.

"They're not getting any better," Wilson remarked, wanting confirmation.

The colonel shook his head and told him how last night had been the worst one yet. How Kalina had come flying into his room like a bat out of hell, crying and shaking hysterically as he tried to calm her down. He then explained that the man she now saw in her nightmares was Bahnsen. The major would murder him in front of the girl's eyes before being tortured and killed herself. How the killings were done was beyond his knowledge. Every time Kalina tried to tell him, she broke down and cried even more. It was breaking his heart, and he had no idea what to do to fix it.

"Do you know of any other symptoms she experiences during these nightmares? Besides shaking and crying, are there any others you're aware of?"

Hogan told him what he had heard from Klink and what he had seen himself. That she would sit up in bed making blood curdling shrieks or would be thrashing in her bed violently making the same noise. She hyperventilated, her pupils dilated almost to the size of her irises, and occasionally would sweat a little. She seemed coherent and aware of her surroundings once waking up, but she did not appear to be entirely there until her father managed to calm her down.

"That doesn't sound like ordinary nightmares, Colonel...that sounds like a night terror attack."

Hogan's muscles tensed and felt a chill run up and down his spine. He asked what a night terror attack was, fearing that it was worse than it already sounded.

"It's when a person has a nightmare so severe that they shoot out of bed screaming, crying, and thrashing around in response. Like they're actually living their worst nightmare and trying to defend themselves. Usually found in small children, but they can result from a traumatic event. Almost being caught and murdered by the Gestapo, in Kalina's case. People don't typically remember their nightmares, but she possesses enough symptoms for me to declare she's suffering from severe night terrors."

Hogan's heart shattered at the news, desperately wanting to take those nightmares away from the little teenager. He asked Wilson if there was anything he could do to dim them down or eliminate them entirely. Anything that would make Kalina well again.

"I can try giving her a mild sedative to sleep, but it's not exactly treating the problem. More like suppressing her nightmares so she doesn't have any at all. If that doesn't work, I can try slowly exposing her to her fear. Like I show her a Gestapo hat and once she's comfortable looking at and being around it, I move onto the full uniform and go on from there. I'll discuss the matter with Klink and see if I can't put her on a low dose of phenobarbital."

The colonel softly nodded, but his expression was still grim. He let out a quiet breath of air, and his frown grew longer.

Wilson sensed what was running through his commander's mind and gave him an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, Colonel," he said. "We'll get your little girl back to her usual self again...and possibly give Newkirk and _LeBeau_ a good dose of phenobarbital."

Hogan laughed silently while shaking his head, then looked at the medic with a sincere look and said 'thank you' in sign language. He got a grin in response.

"Just doing my job, Sir. Now get some rest. I want you to be saying 'm' and 'f' by the end of tomorrow's session," Wilson said.

Hogan rolled his eyes and answered with 'Yes, mother'.

Once Wilson had given him a salute and left for the evening, the colonel tried to adjust himself in order to get comfortable. The sudden aching in his belly was becoming an intense pain. He looked up at the upper bunk, his eyelids feeling heavy. Not able to fight off his fatigue any longer, Hogan let his eyelids fall and entered into a deep sleep.

* * *

Hours went by, and it was soon time for Thomason to go out on his first assignment. At around 10:00PM, Kinch, LeBeau, and the colonel himself gathered in the radio room to make preparations for tonight. Both Thomason and the French corporal got dressed in Gestapo uniforms, Thomason being a captain and LeBeau a sergeant. Once clothed and given their supplies, Kinch gave one last rundown of the plan and began going through the mandatory checklist with LeBeau.

"Firearms," the sergeant said.

"Check," the Frenchman answered.

"Papers."

"Check."

"Back-up ammo."

"Uh…" LeBeau felt his pockets for the spare bullets. He grinned. "_Oui_."

Kinch gave a nod of approval, then made his way to the young colonel, who was struggling with getting his belt straightened out. His back faced towards the radioman and was completely oblivious to his surroundings.

"You ready, Colonel?" Kinch asked.

Thomason screamed with a jump and on instinct pulled out his gun and fired. The bullet went crashing into one of the installed lights in the room, sending it down to the ground with a loud shatter.

Once the initial shock had worn off on everybody, Kinch shook his head and grabbed the weapon out of his commander's hand.

"Okay, new rule," he said, emptying the pistol's magazine. "You're not allowed to have live ammunition in your firearm. Or the next thing you'll be shooting might be somebody's _head_ off." Kinch handed Thomason the empty gun back, and the colonel hung his head while wearing a frown.

"Are you sure bringing him along is safe?" LeBeau asked, anxiety starting to trickle through his body.

"I can't send you out there alone, Louis. You know what Hochstetter said; as long as Captain Buckley is out there somewhere, everyone in Germany is in jeopardy. He's killed several of his own comrades without regret. Some in ways that are too horrific to be repeated out loud. It's too dangerous to go out there all alone."

"I am willing to risk it."

"You sure you're gonna be alright out there, Sir?" The sergeant asked, again facing Thomason.

"_Me_?" The officer laughed. "Why I, will I, I'll be...maybe."

The Frenchman turned his eyes to the ceiling. "_Cher Dieu dans le ciel, nous aide tous_." He grumbled to himself. (1)

"Hey Kinch," Baker said, coming from another section of the tunnels. "Just fixed that faulty wire connecting to…" Thomason cut him off with a scream before he could finish.

"Gestapo! Get away from me!"

He grabbed a pocket knife from his belt and threw it in Baker's direction, the sergeant letting out a yelp and diving to the floor just moments before the weapon stabbed the wall.

Kinch let out a shallow breath of air and pinched the bridge of his nose like he had seen Hogan do an infamous amount of times.

"I'll say a pray for you two," the radioman said to LeBeau.

"With _him_; you better say _fifty_ of them."

* * *

It was about 11:00PM when Thomason and LeBeau got to the Hofbrau. Like usual, there was live music playing, a bunch of Gestapo and Wehrmacht personnel socializing with one another or flirting with the waitresses, and a couple of angry generals demanding to speak with the manager for some reason. The restaurant was filled with clinking glasses, loud chattering, and constant feet shuffling. Busy as usual for a Friday night.

Thomason and LeBeau casually walked towards a booth, the disguised American on the edge every time a German so much as looked in their direction. His muscles were tight, his blood pressure was spiking up, all the while unknowingly chattering his teeth. It earned him a soft whack in the stomach by the Frenchman.

"Colonel," he hissed.

"Corporal, they're staring at us," Thomason said, adrenaline rapidly pumping through his veins.

"They will be _arresting_ us if you do not calm down!"

"Get them to quit looking at us, then."

"Just sit down and be quiet."

Thomason looked over to the booth LeBeau was pointing at, let out a shaky breath of air, then plopped down into his spot. LeBeau sat across from him and waited for their contact while a waiter came over to take their orders.

"Get him a glass of the strong stuff. _Lots _of it," the Frenchman said, with a poor German accent.

Without question, the waiter nodded, then vanished into the kitchen.

The American grabbed a menu off the table, opened it, and put it up to his face, pretending to read the meal options. Almost as if the menu in front of him made him invisible to other patrons. The reaction he got was LeBeau putting his hands to his face and shaking his head.

"_Dieu, pourquoi_?" He asked himself. (2)

As the duo began scanning through the menus, a tall, thin man wearing a suit and black fedora walked down the stairs into the main area and seemed to be searching for someone in particular. His hair was as black as his hat, and his eyes a bright brown. Spotting Thomason and LeBeau in the corner, he approached them with caution, and saluted to both of them once reaching their side. He received the same gesture in return.

"Good evening, Sergeant," the man said, with a thick German accent. "I am looking for the Hammelburg Zoo. Do you happen to know which way I should go?"

"There's a zoo in this city?" Thomason asked absentmindedly.

"It is four blocks away from here. You take a left at the end of the street and keep going straight," LeBeau said, ignoring his current commander entirely.

"And what time does the papa bear exhibit close? I promised my daughter I would get her a picture."

"It closed two hours ago. Mama bear went to bed early tonight."

"You are Papa Bear's men?" The man asked, almost inaudible.

"_Oui_."

The underground agent sighed with relief.

"_Danke, mein Gott_," he said. "I was worried I almost got caught in a trap."

"Do you have the package for London?" LeBeau asked.

The agent quickly scanned the area to make sure no one was watching them. After calling an 'all clear', he turned back to the Frenchman and subtly handed him the microfilm hiding in his shirt sleeve. LeBeau just as tentatively took hold of the object and slid into one of his jacket pockets.

"Make sure no one sees that on you," the agent warned. "The Gestapo found out I had that information, I could be shot for treason or worse."

"There's something worse than _that_?" Thomason sheepishly asked. He began to quietly blubber and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief, LeBeau and the agent staring at him precariously. The agent turned to the man disguised as a sergeant.

"What is _wrong_ with this man?" He asked, in a hushed tone.

"_Nous ne savons pas_," LeBeau said, with a shake of his head. (3)

As the agent pursed his lips, turning back to the whimpering American with an awkward gaze, Bahnsen emerged from the outside and walked down the stairs into the restaurant. He scanned the busy environment for an open table, his dark eyes narrowed at everyone in a constant leery state.

Thomason sniffled, lifted his eyes from his handkerchief, then spotted the Gestapo major and felt his lungs collapse. His color almost instantaneously drained from his face, and his pupils dilated to the size of giant saucers. He snapped his attention back to the two in front of him, shot from his feet, and struggled to pull out a 35 mark tip for the waiter.

"See yah in the Navy," he gasped, throwing the money onto the table. He bolted from the table and almost threw himself out of the back door without looking back, leaving an astonished LeBeau and underground agent.

"_Qu'est-ce que_…" The Frenchman paused mid-sentence the minute he caught glimpse of Bahnsen. He turned to the agent. "_Heil Hitler_." LeBeau got to his own feet and followed his commander out the back, the agent following in toe after spotting the same person the previous two had. (4)

The major caught a swift movement out of the corner of his left eye, turned his head in the same direction, and swore he saw that crying colonel of Klink's running out of the restaurant in a Gestapo uniform. His eyes darkened, and he let out a steamy breath of air, resembling a bull ready to charge. Forgetting about his quiet dinner in town, he turned briskly on the heels of his boots and stormed out of the establishment.

* * *

(1) _Cher Dieu dans le ciel, nous aide tous_ \- Dear God in heaven, help us all

(2) _Dieu, pourquoi_ \- God, why?

(3) _Nous ne savons pas_ \- We don't know

(4) _Qu'est-ce que_ \- What the...


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

"Klink, what is the meaning of this? I'm assigned to the biggest case in the Third Reich's entire history, and you have General Burkhalter order me to be your daughter's personal teddy bear?" Hochstetter growled, shaking his fist at the bald man behind the desk. He had just arrived to the kommandant's camp after a more than inconvenient phone call with the general himself. There was a mad man running amok all over Germany, and the bumbling Colonel Klink, who could hardly defend himself, had the audacity to interrupt his investigation for personal matters.

"Certainly _not_, Major Hochstetter, I insisted that you _continue_ your investigation while stationed here," Klink answered, hoping to ease the hot-tempered major's nerves a bit.

"Playing babysitter to your emotionally distraught daughter," Hochstetter said.

"I'm sure your multitasking skills are second to none, Major."

"KLINK!" Before Hochstetter could continue his thought, the door to the kommandant's office slammed open, and a fuming Bahnsen marched towards Klink's desk without a proper salute. His eyes were almost completely black and glared down the trembling colonel.

"Where is he, Klink?" Bahnsen asked, with a low snarl.

"Where's _who_?" Klink replied dumbfoundedly.

"That crybaby colonel of yours. I know I just saw him at the Hofbrau in a Gestapo uniform."

"_Thomason_?" The kommandant laughed. "That blubber head wouldn't try escaping my camp even if I _ordered_ him to do so."

"I wouldn't try any games with me, Colonel. You know the crime I can convict you of for running an insufficient POW camp and aiding spies from the enemy?" The tall major made his way closer and leaned over a bit to make an emphasis on his high authority. He got an internal joy out of seeing the Luftwaffe officer beginning to shake a bit.

"Major Bahnsen, I can assure you that I know everything that happens within this camp. There has never been an escape from Stalag 13, afterall," Klink said, forcing a sheepish smile. When Bahnsen's eyes darkened even more, Klink swallowed a knot down his throat and began to rattle with fear. "Not in _my_ command, at least." He continued with a tremor.

"I'm not interested in your perfect escape record."

"No Sir, I'm not interested in it either."

Bahnsen ground his jaw and leaned even further until he was just inches from Klink's face. The colonel tried to bend backwards, but was already leaning against his chair as far as it would go. Feeling the hot breath of the major's on his face was enough to send him into a panic attack. His heart was pounding against his chest, his lungs were losing oxygen, his mind was screaming for mercy. Even the palms of his hands had begun to sweat profusely.

"Where is his barracks?" Bahnsen demanded, in an eerie, low tone.

"Barracks two, I'll have Sergeant Schultz take you there," Klink said briskly. He snapped his attention to his office door. "Schultz!"

The door to the office came flying open, and the fluffy sergeant in calling came barreling in. He stood up straight and saluted his commanding officer as best as he could.

"You wanted to see me, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz asked, trying to catch his breath.

"Take Major Bahnsen to barracks two to see Colonel Thomason," Klink ordered.

"_Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_...Colonel _Thomason_?" Schultz remarked stupefied. "Why would he want to see _him_?"

"You will take me to that blubbering swine at once, or I will shoot your commander's brain out!" Bahnsen hollered, pointing his finger back at the sitting figure behind him.

Klink slouched a bit in his chair, his body now violently shaking, and reached over to trace his fingers on one of the drawers in his desk. He grabbed a hold of the handle and was prepared to pull out his issued pistol if needed.

"_Jawohl, Herr Major_," Schultz said.

Bahnsen gazed at the sergeant a moment longer before flouncing out of the kommandantur, Schultz trailing not too far from behind.

The minute the door came to a close, Klink grabbed his cap and swagger stick and rose to his feet. He and Hochstetter, both engrossed in the new matter at hand, stepped outside of the office and inaudibly followed their subordinates to barracks two.

* * *

Kalina wandered her way into Hogan's room after softly knocking on the door. She had been informed that the colonel's belly had been aching a lot since breakfast and wanted to check in on him. Wilson had been giving him pain killers to take along with the water he always had on his footlocker, but it seemed to just make his symptoms worse. After changing prescriptions five times, the medic suggested that Hogan just lie in bed for the day, rest as much as possible, and continuously take slow drinks of water. If that did any justice, the medic promised him an upgrade to ginger ale and possibly a few crackers.

"Colonel Hogan," Kalina said, peeping her head around the door. "You awake?"

Hogan's eyes fluttered open, turned to look at the little teenager, and gave a weak smile. His skin was concerningly pale, and his pupils seemed a bit wider than usual, but Kalina assumed it was because of his upset stomach.

She stepped inside, closed the door behind her, then made her way over to the lower bunk and sat down beside her friend. She frowned once getting a closer look at the American. His kind brown eyes seemed to be a bit foggy and was almost as white as his bed sheets. Kalina placed the back of her hand on Hogan's head to feel for a fever. She found none.

"You don't _feel_ hot...are you okay?" She asked, slight worry in her tone.

Hogan's smile widened a bit and nodded. He rubbed his belly gently to let her know it was just his stomach bugging him so terribly. With his other hand, he reached out and rubbed Kalina's arm, making her give a small smile in return. It quickly changed into a serious expression.

"How do you think LeBeau and Colonel Thomason are doing?" The little Klink asked.

Hogan did some sign language to tell her he was not too worried. LeBeau was a well experienced member of his team and would make sure Thomason stayed in line outside the wire.

"You don't think Captain Buckley will try anything?"

The colonel shook his head slowly. He told her in sign language there was something he wanted her to promise him regarding Buckley. When he was certain he had her full attention, he explained that it was uncertain on what would happen to him after having a major stroke. Many of the family members he had known to suffer from a stroke succumbed to a second one, and others had to resign from their work and enter early retirement. He had a high chance at both of those fates, and it would mean him going home to the States for either retirement and continued therapy or burial. If something were to happen to him, he wanted Kalina to promise him that she would make sure Buckley got to London safely so he could receive proper medical care. So he could have a chance at regaining some sense of reality again. He had been tortured to the last nerve, and no person deserved to suffer like that in his eyes. The reaction he got was the one he expected; Kalina's eyes widened to the point he was afraid they would fall out of her head.

"You mean you want us to _approach_ him? Possibly get ourselves _killed_?!" She gasped. "Colonel Hogan, you heard Major Hochstetter; he's killed some of our _own_ guys. Some in ways where even _he_ couldn't speak of them. There's no _way_ of knowing how he would respond once seeing us."

Hogan nodded. He knew that fact very well. And he knew exactly what Kinch and the others thought about sparing Buckley his life. He just could not give that order. He only believed in killing if it came down to self defense. Taking someone's life away made him feel as evil as he thought of Hitler and his Nazis. It would haunt his conscience for as long as he lived, and his heart would not be able to handle that huge burden. And that's exactly what he told Kalina. He wanted his operation to have that philosophy of humanity, even if he did not get to see it to the end of the war. He wanted her to promise him that. That she would make sure his operation continued running in that manner. That she would make sure Buckley got to London safely no matter what the others told her.

The little Klink hated the idea of losing Hogan. Waking up in the morning and not seeing him there at roll call, not ever hearing his friendly voice and bright laugh again, not ever able to hug him or go to him for advice again, a part of her would be dead if she lost her second father. The entire _camp_ would be dead without him. She could not imagine that reality. It made her eyes burn just thinking about it. Hogan must have sensed her distress, because she suddenly felt a hand gently rubbing her arm for comfort. Despite not able to think of that scenario, she had promised him that she would follow his every order and command no matter how ridiculous it sounded to her. She would never break a promise to the colonel. Not her other father.

Kalina let out a shaky sigh, looked back at Hogan, and nodded. "Alright," she said. "I'll do it."

Hogan let his smile grow wider, his eyes full of gratitude and pride. She did not need to hear it to know what he was thinking. 'You're a good kid,' he said. He slowly sat up, grimacing a bit as he placed a hand on his belly, then rubbed Kalina's back. She blushed a bit while wearing a grin and hugged him in response. Hogan gave a warm smile and held her close. Their 'father-daughter' moment was abruptly interrupted by the faint shouting of Bahnsen, getting increasingly louder with each passing second. The duo looked at one another with perplexion, at the door, then they rose to their feet and made their way into the main area, where LeBeau and Thomason were just climbing back into the barracks.

As Kinch closed the tunnel entrance, Hogan turned to look at his Frenchman, his eyes asking the question for him: what happened? The response he received was an irritated look.

"_Monsieur Colonel_ just nearly blew our entire assignment by sprinting out of the Hofbrau the minute he saw the filthy bosche walk in!" LeBeau spat accusingly.

"I panicked, alright?!" Thomason exclaimed. "I don't know what to do in those situations!"

"You are lucky the Kraut did not come over and find that microfilm on you. We could all be rotting away in a jail cell right now otherwise."

"Oh yeah," the young officer said, grabbing something out of his bomber jacket. "Here's that stuff for London." He tossed the microfilm to Kinch, who quickly caught it and stuffed into his jacket pocket.

"Hey Kinch," Carter said, sitting at the table with a ball of yarn. He had been released along with Newkirk after Hogan had a very brief 'talk' with Klink. "You don't think all that hollering outside is 'cause Bahnsen spotted Thomason, do you?"

As the radioman was about to answer, a horrible cramp hit Hogan and caused him to nearly double over. He placed his hand back on his abdomen, leaned against the stove for support, and seemed to be attempting to breathe through it. He started to sweat a bit on his face and could feel his heart starting to pound against his chest. The sudden change in the colonel was enough to bring everyone's attention from the current situation to their commander.

"Colonel," Kinch said, with a frown. "You alright, Sir?"

"You look _terrible_, Colonel." Carter added.

Hogan let out a few breaths of air and rubbed his belly. When his cramp subsided, he turned to his men, Kalina, and Thomason. When he was about to respond, the door slammed open to reveal Bahnsen and Schultz standing there. The sergeant was trembling and clutching his rifle tight, while the Gestapo officer resembled more of a demon than a human. His eyes were almost completely black, and they were hollow of any emotion. He glared directly at Thomason, who was violently chattering his teeth, and let out a steamy breath of air. About three seconds later, Klink and Hochstetter appeared and felt their eyes dilated in size.

"Papa!" Kalina exclaimed, running to her father and hugging him tight. Her intense fear immediately evaporated when she felt Klink wrap his arms around her and rub the back of her head. She buried her face into him, knowing that if she turned around and saw Bahnsen again she would not be able to contain her anxiety any longer.

"Sergeant, I want that man arrested and shot for plotting against the enemy," the major ordered, pointing at Thomason.

"_Herr Major_," Schultz said, with a tremble. "What did he _do_ exactly?" The question seemed to make Bahnsen turn as red as a fire hydrant.

"I don't _care_ what he's done! Shoot this fool at once!" He barked.

"But he's just inside his barracks."

"SERGEANT!"

"Can I go to bed now?" Thomason asked sheepishly. It earned him a frigid glare from Bahnsen.

"NO! You may _NOT_," he answered.

"Major Bahnsen, as much as I love cooperating with the Gestapo and their efforts in protecting our glorious Third Reich, I am afraid that uh..." Klink cleared his throat before continuing with a tremble. "I can not allow you to arrest Colonel Thomason without _wahrscheinliche Ursache_." (1)

"I saw that man at the Hofbrau in a Gestapo uniform, and I saw him with two other men I couldn't get a good look at. I saw him with my own two eyes, that's enough for your _verdammt_ _wahrscheinliche Ursache_!" Bahnsen replied, turning to face the kommandant.

"If there are arrests to be made, Bahnsen, then _I_ will make them," Hochstetter said, butting in. "This has gone far enough. Thomason is not capable of what you are accusing, and we shall discuss the matter further in Klink's office."

The short major stormed out of the barracks, Klink quickly following after him in fear of the situation blowing up even more. After letting out a steamy breath of air, Bahnsen marched out of the barracks as well.

Thomason, Kinch, Hogan, and Kalina all turned to look at one another and exchanged glances. With the little Klink steadying Hogan as he walked, the three Allied flyers followed the Germans into the compound to find Bahnsen again bellowing his accusations at his commander and the kommandant.

"Damn it, Major," the lengthy Gestapo officer said. "I know what I saw, and I saw that cowering colonel out of this camp in Gestapo uniform!"

"Bahnsen, you are obsessed with this," Hochstetter answered, his patience growing thin.

"And what do you call your fascination with that Colonel Hogan then? _Far_ more than curiosity, for one thing."

"Hogan is an entirely different situation, Major. I would advise you to stop while you're ahead. You are pushing insubordination."

"What about that little brat that's always around him? She is too friendly with that colonel and the men under his command. I'm convinced she's some sort of spy working with the Allies and collaborating on some major plot to destroy our _Fuhrer_!"

"What did you say about my daughter?" Klink retorted, with a glare.

"Filthy traitor. _That's_ what she is!"

As the three German officers continued bickering, Hogan began to feel extremely fuzzy. Everything around him was blurred, and he could hardly understand what was going on around him. His mind swam in a pool of confusion as his sight became fuzzier and fuzzier. He could not comprehend what was happening to him. His heart was pounding violently against his chest, his breathing growing shallow and rapid. His eyes rolled backwards and soon everything around him was black. He collapsed to the ground and started convulsing.

Hearing a thrashing sound behind her, Kalina turned around from watching her father and the two Gestapo officers to find the American on the ground jerking his head and body back and forth. Her eyes widened as she inhaled a sharp breath of air. A seizure. And a grand mal one at that.

"Colonel Hogan!" She shrieked, jolting towards him.

The little Klink's sudden shriek brought Kinch out of his thoughts, turned in the direction Kalina was running, and spotted his commanding officer just as she had.

"Oh my God, Colonel!" He cried, running to the back of his head.

Thomason soon joined them and held back Carter and LeBeau, who had come sprinting out of the barracks after hearing all the commotion.

"_Qu'est ce qui se passe ici_?" LeBeau asked. (2)

"What's happening to him?" Carter exclaimed.

"Stay back," Kinch ordered, extending his arm out at the three of them. "Nobody touch him. Don't try to restrain him either, you'll make it worse."

"I'm calling an ambulance," Klink said, running back to his office with Hochstetter trailing behind him.

"Sergeant Carter, get your camp medic over here now," Thomason said.

"Yes, Sir," Carter answered, and quickly headed for the infirmary.

Hogan continued thrashing around violently until he momentarily stopped, his chest came up, then fell completely motionless.

"Colonel?" Kinch asked, moving to Hogan's right side. He looked down at the colonel's chest and appeared to not be breathing. "No, Colonel, no, Colonel, come on now, wake up. Wake up, Colonel, wake up. Come on, Sir, _breathe_. Breathe, Colonel, _breathe_."

"Colonel Hogan," Kalina barely croaked. She let her tears consume her as Wilson came to Kinch's side with Newkirk following from behind. The radioman got to his feet and helped Thomason keep the others back while Wilson treated Hogan.

"Vitals are dropping, pupils are dilating, I need an ambulance, stat," the medic demanded. He rolled up his sleeves, put his hands on top of Hogan's chest, and began performing CPR.

"Klink's got one coming. Should be here any minute now," Kinch said, doing all he could to keep his own anxiety in check. If he began to panic, _everyone_ would. He had to be strong for all of them. Especially little Kalina.

As the noise of an ambulance grew increasingly louder, Klink bolted out of his office and knelt down by his daughter, taking her into his arms. He hushed her and kissed the side of her head while she buried her face into his chest and wept.

While paramedics hurried to the colonel's side and started resuscitation methods, Bahnsen looked onwards from the shadows of the kommandantur. He watched the medics try to stabilize and put Hogan onto the gurney, the American's men pleading with them to save him, Kalina crying into her father at the sight. And then it happened. A satanic twinkle sprung to his dark eyes. It was at that moment that Bahnsen was the only one smiling.

* * *

(1) _wahrscheinliche Ursache_ \- probable cause

(2) _Qu'est ce qui se passe ici__ \- _What is happening here?


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

All of them sat around in the emergency waiting room. Thomason, Klink, Hogan's men, and Kalina. Schultz was back at camp in charge of everything until the kommandant returned. None of them had heard anything in hours. If Klink was not pestering one of the nurses for information, Thomason was trying to get something out of them. It was either 'We don't know anything right now' or 'You'll have to wait for the doctor'.

"I just don't understand," Newkirk said, pacing back and forth with a cigarette in his fingers. "He was fine. Everything was fine. His stomach was bugging him, but how the bloody hell does an upset stomach cause a seizure?"

"It could have been anything, Newkirk. People who have suffered a stroke are prone to having seizures afterwards. Even another stroke," Kinch answered quietly.

"He wasn't under any stress or anything. He was nauseous and his stomach was aching, but how could that _do_ something like this? How could the Gov'nor have had that seizure happen?"

"It could have been _anything_ that triggered it. We won't know until Dr. Klaussner comes out with a report."

"Why," LeBeau said, shaking his head somberly. "Why Colonel Hogan? What did he do to hurt anybody and deserve this?"

"He didn't do _anything_. It's what makes this so much more bloody difficult to understand." Newkirk replied.

"Guys," Carter said. "You think Colonel's gonna be okay?"

Thomason licked his lips and was about to say something, when the doors to the emergency room opened, and Klaussner emerged into the waiting area. He looked at all the men who were staring back at him, Kalina not paying any attention with her eyes closed. The doctor's expression was neutral, yet his eyes were grim. He gestured for them to follow, but held his hand up to stop Klink when he tried to get his daughter's attention. The kommandant stared back at him for a moment, nodded, then rubbed the back of Kalina's shoulders and gave her a kiss on the head. He and the prisoners were soon gone with Klaussner, leaving the little Klink all alone.

Kalina looked in the direction they had gone in, turned back to face the front of her, then turned left and looked at the magazine pile on the table beside her. She fumbled through a few of them, many of them being either guy magazines or political ones. She found a medical book written by someone named Dr. Klaus and was about to flip through it, when her father silently made his way back out to the waiting room. Kalina looked up at him and saw his expression was funereal. She licked her lips and swallowed a knot in her throat, then spoke, not able to handle the absolute silence any longer. (1)

"Well," she began. "How is he? Can I see him now?"

"_Jawohl, sußes_. Yes, you can see him in a few minutes," Klink said softly. He got down on his knees before his daughter and continued while gently rubbing her arm. "I just want to talk to you first."

"About what?"

The kommandant fell quiet and swallowed, trying to think of the easiest way to put his news. The longer he was silent, the more anxious Kalina got. Her blue eyes clearly expressed the intense fear she was currently experiencing.

"Papa, you're scaring me...where's Colonel Hogan?"

"Baby, listen. I…"

"Where is he?! Where is he? Where is he? I wanna see Colonel Hogan!"

Klink attempted to hush her. "Kalina, baby listen to me now, listen to m…"

"Answer me, where is he? Why can't I see him, what's wrong?"

"I know, I know, sweetie, listen. You have to relax. You have to calm down right now. Please relax, _sußes_."

"Relax for _what_? Why do I need to calm down?"

Klink's lip began to tremble, and tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. He hated what he was about to tell his little girl, but he had no other choice. He reached out and gently rubbed her arm while gaining the strength to speak. "He didn't make it."

Kalina suddenly froze and stared at him as she went into shock. "What?" She squeaked out.

"They think he might be brain dead." Klink continued.

"No," she said. "No, don't say that, Papa."

"I'm so sorry, _sußes_."

Kalina shook her head, tears burning down her face.

"No, no, he's fine. He's fine, I wanna see him. Can you tell me his room number, I wanna see him, he's fine. He's fine." She cried.

"I will take you to him, I will take you to him, you will see him," Klink answered, resuming to rub her arm when she started to sob a little. "But...I want you prepared, because...none of us were ourselves."

She again shook her head and began to cry. "No...no," she wept.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

Kalina continued to cry, then turned her head to the left. "Dr. Klaussner," she screamed. "Dr. Klaussner, I wanna see Colonel Hogan!"

The old doctor re-emerged from the emergency room, slowly walked towards the two Klinks, then helped the little teenager to her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He took her through the emergency doors, her father promising to be there in a minute, and the duo walked down a long hallway. They finally came to a halt at a door, and Klaussner gestured for Kalina to enter inside first. When she stepped in, she saw Hogan's men standing around the bed, Kinch sitting on a stool on the colonel's right bedside. Thomason stood back near the sink watching in solemn silence.

Her eyes landed on the form lying unconscious in bed and felt her heart being stabbed with a thousand knives. Hogan, wearing a white hospital gown, was hooked up to an IV, and EKG machine, and an oxygen mask covered half of his face. She began to break down again.

"Colonel Hogan?" She whimpered. "Colonel Hogan, is that you?"

"That's him, my dear," Klaussner said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She continued to cry as the medic walked her over to Hogan's bedside, and she wrapped her arms around the colonel's face while burying her face into the side of his head. Her breathing became rapid as her sobbing escalated.

Klaussner felt his heart tear in two as he watched Hogan's men and Kalina grieve over their commander and friend. He swallowed a growing lump in his throat before speaking in a soft tone. "I will give him 72 hours to show any sign of brain activity, but he will be officially declared brain dead after that...I've done everything I can for him...he's in God's hands now."

Kinch closed his eyes and fought back his own tears, both caused from hearing Klaussner explain his commander's prognosis and from Kalina's sobs.

The teenager began to cry hysterically as she held onto Hogan as tight as she could. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter had their own tears streaming down their faces and hung their heads while weeping softly.

Kinch put a hand on Kalina's shoulder and rubbed it, a few tears rolling down his own cheeks.

With everyone wound up about Hogan, nobody noticed Klink quietly walk into the room carrying Hogan's jacket. He made his way to his daughter's side and sat down at the bottom end of the American's legs. He gently rubbed Kalina's back and stopped the minute she looked up at him and saw the leather bomber jacket he carried. He handed it to her, and she hugged it tightly.

"If Colonel Hogan doesn't make it…" the kommandant paused to collect himself. "I want you to have something to remember him by...he'd want you to have it."

Kalina hugged the jacket as hard as she could, then let her father wrap his arms around her. She gave a loud wail before she started to cry loudly, the sound making Klink's heart ache. Knowing how much pain his little girl was in made him want to die, and there was not a thing in the world he could do to fix it. He closed his eyes while rocking her and let a tear roll down his face. She would not be the only one to miss Hogan. The American may have drove him insane, but he thought of him as a friend. His _only_ friend...now he was gone.

Thomason wiped the tears from his own eyes and looked at Hogan with a serious, determined expression to his face. Seeing little Kalina cry uncontrollably was enough to kill him. The little teenager had truly loved him as if he were another father to her. _All_ of them had loved Hogan. So much they had loved him. He had been a kind, giving man who was loved by all and deserved all the respect in the world. And that's what Thomason would promise him. The way he had run his operation, the way he had put his men and Kalina first and had been willing to risk his life to save them, the young officer would make sure all of it remained the same.

"Don't you worry, Colonel," he quivered. "I'll take care of her for you now..._all_ of them."

Everyone surrounded the bed and gave their tearful goodbyes to Colonel Robert Hogan. A leader. A role model. And above all else, a beloved friend.

* * *

That next morning after roll call, Kalina sat alone at the table in barracks two. She clutched Hogan's jacket to her as tight as she could, never making a single sound. The tighter she hugged it, the more close he felt to her. Like he was never gone. His scent of cologne and leather was still as strong as the last time he had been wearing it. So much that it brought water to the little Klink's eyes. She shook her head, buried her face into the bomber jacket, and let the tears burn down her cheeks as she softly wept. Hogan was gone. Her second papa was gone.

The door to the barracks opened, and Thomason and the others stepped in quietly. They spotted little Kalina crying and felt their own hearts break. No one was happy that Hogan was gone. Not even the guards seemed to be in a jolly mood without his presence there.

Kinch made his way over to Kalina's left, sat down beside her, and took her in his arms. She buried her face into the radioman and cried more.

"I know, kiddo. I know. We _all_ miss him," Kinch said softly.

"He wouldn't want us to be sad, little mate," Newkirk added, trying to fight back his own emotions. "He'd want us to smile when we think of him."

"Colonel Hogan will _never_ leave us. As long as we remember…" LeBeau could not finish his sentence. A large knot formed in his throat as his eyes began to burn. He wiped them with the sleeve of his red sweater and sniffled. "As long as we remember him."

"We'll always have him in our memories, kiddo," Kinch said, rubbing Kalina's back.

"I don't _want_ his memories. I want him _here_ where I can see him, hug him, and talk to him," the teenager sobbed. "I can't not go to roll call in the morning and not see him."

"I know, I know...but he's gone, Kalina," he answered, then continued as she cried. "And we're gonna fight twice as hard to beat these Krauts now. We're gonna fight and win this war for Colonel Hogan. Just like he would have wanted us to."

"I miss him!"

"I know, kiddo. I know. We'll _always_ miss him."

Kalina hugged Hogan's jacket to as close to her as possible and let out some more sobs. She felt Kinch hold her tight, then she felt another hand suddenly on her shoulder. She turned her eyes to the right and saw Thomason kneeling down beside her. His eyes held empathy, but his neutral expression slowly turned into a comforting smile, and he patted Kalina's shoulder.

"I will run this operation exactly how Colonel Hogan would have wanted it to. Dot every 'i' and cross every 't'," he told her. "I _promise_ you that."

The girl tried to give the man a small smile in gratitude, but it would not come despite the occasional mouth movements going upwards. She buried her face back into Kinch's chest, and the colonel grew serious again. He turned to all of them.

"Now," he said. "We've gotta do something about this Captain Buckley. The longer he's out there, the bigger a threat he becomes."

"I only see two ways around it. Either kill or _be _killed," Newkirk said, taking a drag on a cigarette.

"I sure don't like the idea of it, but Newkirk's got a point. I mean we all heard Hochstetter; we don't have any idea _what_ this guy's willing to do." Carter added.

"Yeah, I hate to say it, especially when it regards one of _our_ guys, but I agree with you, Newkirk. If we tried sending him back to London and he managed to escape from custody, he could kill every _one_ of us with how dangerous he is," Kinch said.

"No," Kalina whimpered, wiping her eyes. "Colonel Hogan wanted him to get to London. So he would have a chance at gaining some sense of reality again."

"Then that's exactly what we'll do," Thomason said, finishing the matter. "Now how do we find him is the question."

"Track down a _mad_ man?" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Are you bloody balmy, Sir, that's a _suicide_ mission," Newkirk said.

"If that's what Colonel Hogan would have wanted, then that's the way it shall be. I may be a coward, but I'm a man of loyalty and respect. Colonel Hogan was a kind, intelligent, and heroic individual without a mean bone in his body. I intend to _keep_ that philosophy of his now that I'm in command, understood?" The colonel stated flatly.

The four flyers exchanged a solemn look, then hung their heads.

"Yes, Sir," Newkirk answered.

"We're sorry, _Monsieur Colonel_." LeBeau added.

"What do you want us to do first, Colonel?" Kinch asked, his arm still wrapped around Kalina.

Thomason pursed his lips, clasped his arms behind his back, and began to pace back and forth across the room. His eyes were intense, his expression clearly expressing his deep thinking. He appeared angry more than he did thoughtful.

"Who can we call that would possibly know Buckley's current location?" He asked, particularly to no one.

"Otto Heidleman of the underground might know something. He's usually the first person we turn to for inside information," the staff sergeant said. (2)

"Can you get in contact with this Otto Heidleman?" Thomason prodded.

"Easily."

"Good. Contact him at once, then make a call to London and get a background check on him. I want to know just exactly how dangerous this guy is."

"Right, Sir," Kinch got to his feet and turned back to Carter. "Hey, Carter. You mind sitting with Kalina a little longer? Just until she's settled down a bit more?"

"Sure thing, Kinch," the young sergeant answered, then sat down on the girl's right and wrapped an arm around her.

As Kinch climbed down into the tunnels, Newkirk turned to Thomason.

"While we're waiting for him, Sir, can we do somethin' about that blasted Bahnsen Kraut out there?" He asked.

"Mess with a Gestapo officer?" Thomason scoffed. "Now _that's_ a suicide mission."

* * *

(1) The book Kalina is reading is the manual written by Dr. Klaus, a character from the episode "Up In Klink's Room" in season 4. The same place Hogan got his idea to pretend and have polaris extremis.

(2) Otto Heidleman is the leader of the underground operation and a character I created. He is a good friend of Hogan's and first appears in my story "Coming Into the Light".


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

It took about four hours for Kinch to gather and collect all the background information on Buckley. London surprisingly had been the first one to report back to him before the underground did. Once the facts had been compiled onto one sheet of paper, he made his way back into the barracks, closed the tunnel entrance, and approached Thomason, who was leaning against Carter and Newkirk's bunk. The colonel turned his head to his new second in command.

"What did they say?" He asked. "Did you hear back from both of them?"

"Nothing good, Colonel," Kinch said, handing over the sheet of paper. "Not only is this guy wanted by Hitler, but he's also currently one of the FBI's most wanted."

"Oh boy," Carter said, sitting at the table with LeBeau and Kalina. Newkirk stood off to the technical sergeant's left smoking a cigarette.

"That's a bad sign, mates." Newkirk added, taking a drag.

"That's a _very_ bad sign," Thomason said. He turned his eyes downward to the paper in his hands and began to read.

"What's FBI?" Kalina asked.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation. They're the big dogs back in the States. They only get involved if someone becomes a national threat. Or in this case, a _worldwide_ threat." Kinch explained.

"If even _those_ blokes are after this guy, then we really _are_ in great danger," the Englishman said.

The little Klink hugged Hogan's jacket tightly to her chest and swallowed a large lump in her throat. She turned her head to Thomason and listened to him give the report of London's and the underground's findings.

"_Captain Gary Antonio Buckley. Six feet tall, 163 pounds, and thin built with dark brown hair and bright green eyes. 27 years old and resides in Great Falls, Montana. Commanded the 486th Fighter Squadron. Tortured to insanity by interrogation methods done at a POW camp in Northern Germany and escaped during the night after brutally murdering the camp's kommandant. Suspected murderer of six other kommandants, four Gestapo officers, and Allied flyers identified as Major John Winslow, Colonel Peter Hackney, Lieutenant Harold Spencer, Corporal Melvin Watson, and Colonel Kurt Henderson. Expected to be armed and extremely dangerous. Last seen in Frankfurt wearing a Kriegsmarine commander uniform headed east_," he read.

LeBeau swallowed a knot in his throat. "_Hammelburg_ is east of Frankfurt," he said, shaky.

Carter and Kalina exchanged fearful looks with one another, then turned their eyes back to Thomason.

"You mean he's headed towards _here_?" The young sergeant exclaimed.

"It doesn't state specifically Stalag 13, but it does look like he's traveling in Hammelburg's direction," Thomason said, handing the sheet of paper back to Kinch. "At the bottom of the paper is a warning from both London and the FBI stating that if we intend on getting this guy back to Great Britain for medical care that three men accompany him at all times. Armed and ready to shoot if necessary."

"I already have Otto sending out a group of agents tonight to scope the area for this guy. They're to report to me if they find him nearby." The radioman reported.

"How the bloody hell are we gonna do this, then? March right up to him and ask him to surrender?" Newkirk asked, with frustration.

"The man was tortured to insanity, Newkirk. Using logic is out the window," Kinch said.

"Sergeant Kinchloe is right," the colonel said. "If we're going to follow Colonel Hogan's orders, we're going to have to use force. That means tackling, knocking out, smothering with chloroform, _anything_ to disarm or render Buckley unconscious until we have him in custody."

"How are we going to do _that_?" LeBeau asked, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Anyone here know what a ninja is?" Thomason questioned, crossing his arms.

Everyone around the room slowly raised their hand, unsure of where their new commander was taking this.

"Sir," the Englishman began. "I mean this in the most respectful way possible, but what the bloomin' hell do ninjas have to do with this?"

"I mean we've got one way to capture Buckley safely, and one way only," Thomason explained. "One that requires immense stealth, precision, and remarkable assassination skills."

"You mean you want...you want _us_ to...you mean be…" Carter was cut off by Thomason.

"Gentlemen...and darlin'...if we wanna catch this guy and do it safely, we'll have to act as ninjas ourselves."

* * *

Hours passed since then, and Thomason was sitting at the table trying to complete a German crossword puzzle in the evening newspaper. He was trying to figure out what '_gewässer zwischen Südamerika und Europa_' meant, when Newkirk came inside and lay a pile of papers beside the colonel's arm. Thomason glanced over, flipped through the documents, then turned his eyes upward at the Englishman. (1)

"What is this?" He asked, flipping through the papers again.

"Work detail Ol' Klink wants you to arrange. He's ordering us to fix a gravel road that fell victim to one of our air raids last month," Newkirk said.

"Am I colonel, or some damn secretary back at the Pentagon?"

"I didn't know you worked at the Pentagon before the war."

"I _didn't_...I was a bellhop at the Biltmore on Anastasia Avenue."

Before either one could continue, the door to the private quarters opened, and Kalina emerged into the main area. Her hair hung lifelessly and appeared to still be half asleep. She sat down on Thomason's right and hugged Hogan's bomber jacket close to her as if it were her baby blanket she still slept with.

"Hey, little mate. I thought you were gonna lie down and take a little nap," Newkirk said, his eyes full of concern.

"I can't sleep," Kalina answered, with fatigue.

"That phenobarbital isn't working, is it."

"No, it's working. I'm not having nightmares anymore, it's just...they're not gone entirely. Every time I close my eyes I see Colonel Hogan," she gave a small smile. "He's smiling and talking and laughing, and I run to him to give him a hug...then it turns bad. Before I'm able to reach him, he vanishes and turns into Major Bahnsen. He starts cackling hysterically, and I wake myself up...then it starts all over again."

"He's not gonna lay so much as one _finger_ on you," Thomason said firmly. "I promised Colonel Hogan that I would protect you and his boys at all costs, and I intend on keeping that promise to him. You five were _everything_ to him."

Kalina nodded softly and sniffled. "I can't see him, I can't hear his voice, I can't hug him and tell him how much I love him...I miss him. I miss my other papa," she answered, meek.

"I know what'll cheer you up," Newkirk said, taking a seat. "How about I tell you about _my_ worst nightmare. But it stays between the _three _of us, got it?"

The little Klink nodded.

"I was at the end of high school when I had it," he began. "My graduating class and I were all getting ready for our senior prom. _Abiball _you call it here. I had a date with this gorgeous blonde. Most beautiful bird I'd ever seen. I wanted to impress her, so I got the fanciest suit, the best corsage you could imagine, everything was going as well as planned. Well, I get to the girl's house and knocked on the door. She opens it wearing this beautiful light blue ball gown, but she starts laughing at me right out of the blue. Guess why?"

"You had a giant _Pickel _on your nose?" Kalina asked. (2)

"Worse. I was standin' there in me bleedin' underwear."

Kalina tried to hide the smile forcing itself onto her face. She buried her mouth into the collar of Hogan's jacket and attempted to swallow down her giggles.

"Go ahead and laugh. You're the only one I'll allow it for," the Englishman said, a grin coming across his own face. It widened when he heard her laugh louder. It was the first time since they lost Hogan that she giggled, and it was music to his ears. "You have any idea how many years I went double checking I was wearing a belt everyday?" He continued. "I _still_ check at least twice a day."

"That's _nothing_ compared to _my _worst nightmare: waking up in the middle of the night to find a serial killer standing over my bedside...don't read the crime section in the newspaper. You'll regret it for the rest of your life." Thomason replied. "That, or the one where I wake up and find out that I've somehow turned into a girl."

"Okay, now _that_ one I have to know," Kalina said, her eyes lighting up like stars.

As the colonel was about to begin, the door to the barracks opened, and Carter and LeBeau stepped inside. The corporal closed the door behind him as the sergeant made his way to the table.

"What are you guys talking about?" Carter asked.

"We're talking about our worst nightmares to make little Kalina here feel better," Thomason said.

"I had a nightmare once of getting stuck in the air vents at school...no, that actually happened."

"I'm gonna regret asking this, but why were you in the school air vents, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, his facial expression already holding dread.

"My friends and I wanted to see if we could crawl through from one classroom to another," the young man answered.

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"I had a nightmare where I woke up in _Paris_ and was married to Hochstetter," LeBeau said.

"Now _that_ ain't a nightmare; that's bloody Hell," Newkirk said.

Kalina gave a silent laugh, when the five of them heard the fake bunk open. They turned their eyes in the direction of their hidden tunnel entrance and watched Kinch crawl up from underneath the earth. He swung his legs over the wooden bars, closed the entrance, then turned to his friends with a sheet of paper in his hand.

"They got him, Colonel," Kinch reported. "We know where Buckley is."

"Where?" Thomason asked, more sounding like a demand.

"About seven miles north of here. In a little town called Thulba. One of our agents recognized him when he came into his store. Last seen wearing a _Kriegsmarine_ captain's uniform. Thinks he might be jumping on a bus headed here tonight. Buckley seemed to be rummaging through the free city maps near the door."

"Did he say what time that bus is leaving?"

"No, Sir, but he knows the schedule pretty well. The next bus that comes to Hammelburg tonight is at 2245 hours. There won't be another bus that comes tonight until 0400 hours."

"Which means Buckley will be here come morning," Thomason rose to his feet, put his arms behind his back, and began to tap his foot. "Alright boys...and girl, this is the moment we've been waiting for. Tomorrow night we attack. I'm talking guns, I'm talking bullet proof vests, I'm talking just about every weapon in the book. I'm talking FBI style. We'll need every advantage on our side if this is going to go down the way we want it to. Got it?"

Hogan's men and Kalina simply stared at the man, giving the room an eerie, unwelcoming silence. Thomason cleared his throat before speaking in a soft tone. "You don't have all those gizmos and gadgets, do you."

"We're a small business, Sir," Kinch answered.

"You want the big stuff, you have to call in London to do the job." Newkirk added, taking a drag on a newly lit cigarette.

"Or the Gestapo," Carter said.

"Well, we already know the Gestapo's and London's opinions on capturing Buckley," Thomason said, his face hardening. "I don't care what the Gestapo's or London's preferences are, there's one way I'm running this assignment and _only_ one way: the Colonel Hogan way."

The five before him all gave heartfelt smiles while both remembering their beloved friend and feeling admiration for their new commander. They were all touched at the fact Thomason was dead serious on running the operation as much like Hogan as possible. And they were certain that Hogan was beaming with pride from wherever he was, too. They would always miss Hogan. No one would ever be able to replace him in their hearts, but they could not have asked for a better man to take over Hogan's operation than Thomason. Their cowardly colonel was alright for a new commander.

"The Colonel would have been very honored to hear that, Sir," Kinch said for all of them.

"He would not have wanted anyone else to take over his position other than you, Colonel." LeBeau added sincerely.

The officer's eyes welled with unshed tears as a wide smile grew on his face. He hung his head as he blushed and sniffled. "You guys are just trying to make me _cry_ now, aren't you," he said.

That got the group of five to laugh.

Thomason's pride turned into intense determination and placed his leg on top of the table while resting his right arm across it. "Gang," he said. "Let's make Colonel Hogan proud. Operation Buckley starts now."

* * *

(1) _G__ewässer zwischen Südamerika und Europa _\- body of water between South America and Europe

(2) _Pickel_ \- pimple


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

The night Thomason and the others had been preparing for had finally arrived. Newkirk and Kinch had spent most of the previous evening preparing their best pistols, ammunition, even snatched a pair of handcuffs from Schultz's waistband. Chloroform rag, rope, Gestapo batons, they only had one shot at doing this correctly, and nobody was going to take any chances. While Thomason and Kalina met up with one of their agents on the whereabouts and suspected plans of Buckley, Kinch and the others would scope out the area for the mad captain all the while doing the normal stakeout routines. If Buckley was spotted by either one of them, their code was to howl like a wolf.

Once certain that Klink had gone to bed, they headed out. Thomason strapped his pistol tightly to his holster and made his way to Kalina, who was struggling to let go of Hogan's bomber jacket. She carried it with her everywhere she went as if it made her feel close to the father figure she had lost and missed so dearly.

Sensing her discomfort, the colonel knelt down before her and looked up at the little teenager's blue eyes. She licked her lips as he began to speak.

"I know you don't wanna let go of him, but it'll just be for a few hours."

Kalina looked down at the jacket and held it tighter.

"We'll be back before you know it. Then you can hug it all you want." He continued.

Kalina swallowed and nodded softly, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to find Baker standing there with an encouraging smile.

"I'll take very good care of it for you. I won't let it leave my sight for one moment," the sergeant said.

The little Klink held the jacket out in front of her, brought it in for a kiss, then gently handed it over to Baker. She looked back at the colonel, who was still grinning at her. He rubbed her arm and gestured with his head towards the fake bunk exposing the tunnel entrance.

"Let's do this thing, kid," he said.

Kalina gave a small smile and nodded.

As the two made their way to the fake bunk, Kinch's head popped up from below and looked at the duo.

"You ready, Colonel?" He asked.

"I was _born_ ready," Thomason answered.

"Let's get going then. Buckley won't wanna stay around for long."

"Let's get her done."

After Baker wished them luck, Thomason and Kalina climbed down into the tunnels, met up with the others, and the six of them soon set out of camp to the rendezvous spot. Tonight was the night they would finally meet Buckley face to face.

* * *

Thomason and the others got about twenty feet from their destination before pausing, and the colonel turned around to face the rest of them, his pistol clutched in his hand.

"Okay, one last time," he said. "Kalina and I will meet with the agent, get that information, then we'll meet you at the bottom of that large hill and rocky ledges leading to the waterfall. What are you four gonna do in the meanwhile?"

"Spread out about 15 feet from one another and scope the area for Buckley or a Kraut patrol. Newkirk takes east, Carter goes west, LeBeau north, and I south," Kinch answered.

"Good. And if any of you see Buckley, what's the code?"

As Carter was about to make a howl, Newkirk covered his mouth and eyed the young man. "Just _tell_ the man. Before you attract attention." He growled.

Certain they all had the plan committed to memory, Thomason looked in the direction of the rendezvous spot, then at the men once more.

"Alright. Get going, and good luck," he said.

Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter all nodded, then parted ways with their commander and Kalina. Once the four flyers were out of sight, Thomason turned to face the small teenager.

"You ready?" He asked.

Kalina nodded.

"_Jawohl, Herr Colonel_," she said.

"Good. Follow me."

Kalina did as told, and the two of them made their way to the rendezvous point and stopped in the center of an opening in the forest. Thomason scoured the area with the agent, when Kalina spoke.

"Colonel," she said. "Do you think he's here yet?"

"I couldn't tell yah. You know the signal to give him?"

"Yes, Sir." The girl pulled out her flashlight, pointed it outwards from her, then flicked it on and off a few times. Two white, two blue, two more blue. She waited silently for about two minutes before receiving a response. Three blue, two white, then one more blue. She turned to Thomason. "He's here, Colonel."

Thomason turned behind him, saw the direction she was pointing in, then the duo made their way towards their contact. Kalina grinned widely once she saw Otto and ran towards him. The old underground agent smiled and rubbed her back gently.

"Star, it's good to see you again," he said sincerely, using her old underground codename.

The colonel approached the two and held his hand out for a shake. "Night Owl, an honor to finally meet you," Thomason said.

"The same to you, Colonel...I am deeply sorry for the loss of Papa Bear," Otto answered, his smile fading.

"Thank you, Sir. We were told by the agent in Thulba that you would alert us as soon as you had visual of Buckley in this area."

"Yes, one of my contacts at the Hofbrau spotted him wandering around a few hours ago. It was difficult to tell what he was wearing from it being so dark out. It looked like he was headed in the direction of Stalag 13. We suspect he plans on killing the kommandant and returning to the city to murder Major Hochstetter before vanishing off again."

Kalina swallowed a large lump in her throat. Her eyes were the size of saucers. "Papa," she croaked.

"Yes, my dear. I'm afraid your father is next on his hit list," Otto said, with sympathy.

"Are your guys certain of that? Should we send Klink into hiding?" Thomason prodded.

"We aren't sure definitely, but we are fairly certain based on his criminal record. Knocking off the only kommandant with no escapes from his camp would be a gold mine to Buckley. As for sending Klink into hiding, I don't think it would be necessary as long as three armed guards were surrounding him or the premises he's in at all times."

"Colonel, he can't kill Papa, he _can't_! I can't _live_ without Papa," Kalina said, her voice shaking with terror.

"Buckley's not gonna go anywhere near your father," Thomason promised. "He'll be in our custody before he gets the chance to."

"Are you sure you want to do this? This man is armed and extremely dangerous. He sees you and gets enough time, he could wipe both of you out within seconds," Otto stated.

"We know the risks, Night Owl, and we've come prepared. I got four other guys scoping the area for him as we speak. Do you have any idea where his next destination might be after Hammelburg?"

The underground leader gave a slight chuckle. "_No one_ knows where Buckley plans on going after his previous crime. His next murder could take place in Lübeck for all we know."

"Where do you think he is _now_?" Kalina asked, still shaking knowing her father was all alone back at camp. The idea of Klink being Buckley's next suspected victim was enough to make her scream. She had just lost Hogan, she was not losing her best friend, too. Losing her papa would be enough to make her lie down on the ground and die.

"He could be anywhere in this area, my dear. Where Buckley hides and waits no one can manage to solve yet. It's why the Gestapo has yet to find him," Otto said.

"Thank you, Night Owl. You've been a major help to us on this assignment," Thomason said.

Otto gave a grin back in response. "I'm just doing my part to help the Allies. Now be careful out here. Buckley suspects you two are after him, his next target might be _you_."

"Yes, Sir. The same to you," the colonel said.

Thomason saluted Otto, then he and Kalina made their way back into the clearing and turned to look at one another. Thomason shook his head. "I should have _known_ Buckley might come to Stalag 13. A prison camp with no escapes on its record. What kind of mad Allied officer would pass up _that _opportunity?" He asked, particularly to no one.

"I won't let him do it," Kalina said. "I won't let Papa die even if it means _I_ have to."

"And he _won't_ die. _None_ of us are gonna die. We have to find Buckley before he finds Stalag 13, though."

"How do we do that?"

"Let's keep walking and go meet up with the guys. I think a collaborative discussion is in order."

The small Klink nodded, and the two of them resumed their nightly trek through the forest. The sooner they found Kinch and the others, the sooner they could save Klink from an untimely death.

* * *

Bahnsen and his search dog, Magnus, were walking through the forest that night on their own assignment: to catch Thomason and Klink's daughter in some suspicious act to prove Hochstetter and everyone else back at Stalag 13 that he was right. The two walked in silence when they came to a barbed wire fence and a big silver sign with bright red paint plastered all over it. On it with the red paint in capital letters read '_Kein Jagen. Kein Zutritt_!' (1)

"No hunting, huh?" Bahnsen asked himself, as he read the sign. He looked back down at his Doberman. "I wouldn't consider this hunting, would you, boy?" He knelt down to the ground and grabbed out a pair of wire cutters issued to him by the Gestapo. "Just gonna find us a rotten colonel." He cut the wires, then released the leash on Magnus and had him sniff a piece of leather that had fallen off of Thomason's jacket. "Alright boy, sniff them out. Find me that damn American."

Magnus followed orders and ran off to start tracking, his owner not too far behind him. He searched trees, rocks, bushes, and different trails, but no scent of Thomason could be found. Meanwhile, Kinch and the others were making their way to the meeting point, when they heard footsteps coming from ahead of them. Kinch held out his arm to stop the others, put a finger to his lips to silence them, then the four listened closely to try and detect who it was that was walking by.

It took about fifteen minutes into their walk before they came across a sandy and gravel intersection in the middle of the forest. Magnus got to the center of the intersection, his ears stood up straight, and started growling.

"You have something, boy?" Bahnsen asked, kneeling down beside the dog. He looked at the paths down his right and saw that it was in the direction of Stalag 13. He felt a crooked grin crawl onto his face and gave a low chuckle. "Good boy, Magnus. Those two will be coming right through here back for Stalag 13 if outside the wire...but they won't make it back there alive."

* * *

(1) _Kein Jagen. Kein Zutritt_ \- No hunting. No entry!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** This next chapter and the first part of the final chapter are a mix based off of scenes from the chase/fight/bear attack from 'The Fox and the Hound', the witch castle chase from 'The Wizard of Oz', and the ending of 'Savage Sam'. Lots of suspense and action to take place from now until the ending of this story, so I hope you guys enjoy. And, as always, leave a review for me. :) **  
**

* * *

**Chapter 14:**

Thomason and Kalina had been walking for over half an hour, but they still had not reached the designated meeting point. The colonel was fumbling with a compass as Kalina came to a halt and sighed.

"Aw Colonel," she said. "Let's face it; we're lost."

"We're not lost, we're just...not there yet."

"We've been walking for almost an hour. And these trees look familiar...I think we're going in circles."

"Hey, I'm new to this, alright? We'll figure out a way to that hill if it's the last thing I do."

Kalina shifted uncomfortably in her spot, her hands clasped behind her back. "I wouldn't say that in our current situation, Sir," she answered softly.

Thomason froze and felt an eerie chill roll up his spine. He swallowed a knot forming in his throat, then turned to the little Klink and wrapped his arm around her shoulders protectively. "Come on, kiddo. Let's try this way," he said, gesturing with his head to the left.

The duo started off foot in a new direction this time, praying the whole time that they would either find Kinch and the others, or they would find Buckley before he found them.

* * *

Bahnsen finished laying out all the fire snappers that were usually thrown on the ground to 'pop' at big celebrations. This was no celebration, though. This was to alert him and Magnus that Thomason had walked into their trap while they were in hiding. While he placed the last pile of poppers onto the ground, Magnus was tied up to a big oak tree to the major's left, watching his owner as he set the trap.

"There she is," Bahnsen said, with a ghostly grin. "Jannik, you genius." He let out a cackle. "That damn colonel's no match for you this time."

* * *

Thomason and Kalina continued walking and came across a sandy, gravelly path leading towards somewhere. The colonel took a few steps forward, when Kalina paused and felt her body freeze. A nasty chill was wracking her body and felt her stomach twisting in knots. Something was off about this path, she thought to herself. Something that read 'danger', 'get out', 'go away and don't come back'. She was not sure what it was, but whatever it was was making red flags and alarms go off all over in her brain. She spoke out in a quiet tone.

"Colonel," she said, making the American pause. "Colonel, stop for a minute."

Thomason turned around and saw the anxiety ridden expression that had plastered itself onto the girl's face. He frowned and looked at her with eyes full of concern. "Kalina, what is it, kiddo?" He asked.

"I don't wanna go down this way. It seems too quiet in that direction," she said.

"Aw kid, you're just worked up is all. What could be the worst thing we run into here; a pack of wolves?"

"Buckley or the Gestapo."

It was then Thomason froze himself. He slowly cranked his head back towards the path he was standing on and gulped. He pulled out his gun, signaled for Kalina to be silent and follow, then carefully resumed walking with the little Klink close behind him.

* * *

Bahnsen was busy covering the fire snappers with fallen leaves, when Magnus picked up a familiar scent along with a new one tagging along with it. He sniffed the air a few times to make sure, then gave a loud snarl. Bahnsen looked up from what he was doing and stared off in the direction they had just come in with furrowed eyebrows.

"What the hell?" He muttered to himself. He got behind the large oak tree with Magnus and got his pistol out just in case. He soon heard soft footsteps from behind them that slowly became louder.

Thomason saw the intersection of paths ahead of him, stopped in his tracks, and held his arm out to stop Kalina from going any further. He withdrew his pistol again and cocked it, preparing for any unwanted visitors in the area. "Stay quiet and behind me," he said, in a low tone. He resumed walking, and Kalina followed, taking out her own gun and swallowing a knot in her throat.

Thomason slowly made his way deeper into the forest, wide alert and with a deadpan expression to his face. The further he walked down the path, the more tense his muscles grew. The more his chill running up and down his spine gave him goosebumps. He gulped and eventually let his shoulders fall out of fear and caution.

As Bahnsen and Magnus blended in with the tree, the colonel and Kalina kept walking closer towards them. Thomason kicked a few leaves off of the fire snappers, but not once did he step on one of the piles. He was deciding on which way to go next, when he heard Bahnsen's gun being cocked somewhere nearby. He took a few steps back, when he stepped on a huge pile of fire snappers, making him jump in the air and drop his pistol while Kalina stood and watched in horror. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was hanging to the point it could have fallen off her face.

Thomason sprinted back in the other direction, stepping on the rest of the piles of fire snappers. He swept Kalina up into his arms, making her drop her own gun in the process. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into the crook of his neck as Bahnsen fired his gun a few times. He released Magnus and had the dog chase after him, the major not being able to catch up to them.

"God damn it, they're getting away!" He bellowed.

Once certain they were far enough, Magnus's barking faintly heard in the background, Thomason set Kalina down on her feet and roughly grabbed her by the hand.

"Quick, Kalina!" He cried, the two of them running off further into the forest. They stopped near a pile of huge boulders leaning against a tall, thick tree and turned to one another. "Go on," Thomason ordered, trying to catch his breath. "Get to that cabin up the hill."

The teenager nodded and darted for the abandoned living space, while Thomason looked for a place to hide and surprise Bahnsen's mad dog. He saw one of the boulders hiding behind a larger one and a fat tree trunk. He leaped onto the giant rock and crouched down, quietly waiting for the Doberman to reach him. He narrowed his eyes and made a snarl just before jumping down in front of the dog and making his ground.

Bahnsen's dog growled as he and the colonel circled around one another for several seconds before deciding to leap for his target. Thomason was too quick for Magnus and jumped out of the way. The American made his way for the dog's hind legs and stepped on one of Magnus's paws. The Doberman yelped in pain as Thomason fled for the cabin and Kalina.

Once the shock had worn off, Magnus charged in the same direction his prey had gone in, coming to a halt as soon as he reached the cabin. Thomason slammed the door shut just as the canine was about to enter and shoved a sofa in front to barricade the entrance.

The colonel ran to Kalina's side and wrapped a protective arm around her as the two turned their eyes back to the door. Magnus was trying to dig and force his way in, somehow successfully managing to move the sofa to the side a few centimeters the first few tries. As Kalina stood in terror at what she was witnessing, Thomason spotted a door in the back, tapped her on the shoulder, and pointed behind them.

"This way. Out back. Come on," he ordered.

The duo ran for the back door and opened it just a smidge. Both stuck their heads out to check if the coast was clear. As Thomason was about to make the call, Kalina looked a few feet ahead of her and felt her heart stop.

"Colonel!" She cried.

Thomason looked in the direction she was facing, and the air in lungs evaporated. There less than twenty feet away was Bahnsen standing with his pistol loaded and aimed. The major fired a few shots, missing the two by several inches. Both Thomason and Kalina fled for back inside the cabin, the colonel slamming the door with his back and pointed to the front.

"Back, back, back!" He shouted over the gunfire. A few more poorly aimed shots were made before gunfire ceased.

Kalina reached the front and backed away a few feet, seeing Bahnsen's dog was still trying to force his way in. Thomason stepped in front of her and leaned forward, his shoulders raised and eyes brimmed with flames. He ground his jaw and snarled as the little teenager began to shake violently.

"Oh no, Colonel," she said, meek.

As Magnus continued to growl and force his way inside the cabin, Thomason lunged from his spot at the door as if to break it down. The force was enough to pinch the Doberman's front paw slightly, causing him to jump backwards and yelp again. It lasted about three seconds before Magnus began snarling and digging at the door again.

In the back of the cabin, Bahnsen was pouring a can of gasoline all over. Once he emptied the can, he lit a match and threw it onto the ground. The area quickly lit with raging red and orange flames. He took his cap off and waved it back and forth to make the fire spread faster, sending thick black smoke inside towards Thomason and Kalina. The colonel buried the girl's face into his chest and leaned over her head to prevent her from inhaling any of the smoke.

Bahnsen gave an eerie, malice chuckle, made his way to the front of the cabin, and cocked his gun. There was only one way out for his prisoners, and they would meet the exit with a few bullets straight to the head. As his dog lowered himself and made deep growls, the major narrowed his eyes, his wide grin turning into a cold frown. "Try escaping all you want, you're gonna die either way," he called out to the two inside. His hand tightened on the trigger and ground his teeth. "Just like your Colonel Hogan did when I poisoned his water with that lethal dose of amphetamine."

Inside the cabin, Kalina and Thomason were coughing and hacking as the flames and smoke thickened around them.

"Colonel," Kalina croaked. "We're trapped." She coughed violently and felt tears welling in her eyes. Whether it was from her intense fear of dying or the flames and dust stinging her eyes was mere impossible to tell. "Colonel, we're gonna die in here."

Thomason's empathetic look turned into one of will and determination. They were not dying. He had promised Hogan to protect his boys and Kalina with his life, and he was not letting the late colonel down now. Not when this little lady needed him most. "No we're not," he growled. He grabbed a tight hold of Kalina's hand. "On three, we charge. One," he wrapped his arm tight around Kalina. She did the same in response. "Two..._THREE_!"

The duo ran towards the back door as fast as they could, made it fly open on impact, and they jumped over the flames, their bodies flowing with pure adrenaline. They landed in the grass with only minor burns and sprinted for a large hill with several rocky ledges. The meeting spot with the boys. They had found it at last.

"WHAT?!" They heard Bahnsen scream. "HOW?!..._HOW_?!"

Thomason and Kalina could hear gunfire and barking in the near distance, making them run even faster. Their lungs were burning, their legs were screaming with pain, but the sooner they got to Kinch and the others, the safer they would be.

Hearing all the chaos behind them, Kinch and the others looked down to find Thomason and Kalina charging away from a burning building and two shadowy figures following from afar.

"Colonel!" The radioman called out.

"Quick! Get her up there with you guys," Thomason said, lifting her up in his arms and handing her to Kinch. The officer jumped up onto the ledge and followed the group several more paths until they reached the cliff overlooking the waterfall. The six looked around for a way back to camp, when Carter finally asked the question for all of them.

"Where do we go _now_?"

Kinch scanned all around them, saw a path behind him leading up to another part of the forest, then pointed.

"This way," he said, gesturing with his hand. "Come on, guys."

Thomason and the others followed Kinch up the path and were out of sight before Bahnsen and Magnus reached the point they had just been at.

"Where are they?" He asked himself. Bahnsen and his dog started walking towards the ledge overlooking the waterfall, hoping to find another trail his prisoners had possibly gone on as faint rustling was heard from the back. Out from hiding behind a bunch of bushes and shrubs came a tall, thin man wearing an SS uniform. His hair was a deep brown color, and his eyes were almost completely black and hollow. Like there was nothing left inside him. Clutched in his hand was a fully loaded Browning Hi-Power. United States AAF Captain Gary Buckley emerged onto the ledge and followed the major, knowing who his next victim was.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

As Bahnsen kept scanning for where Thomason and Kalina had run off to, Magnus picked up on a scent...but it was not the one he was looking for. He turned around to check what it was and snarled the minute he saw Buckley approaching them. His owner looked back to see what his search dog was upset about, and his mouth dropped within seconds. His eyes were bugging out of his head, his heart had stopped pounding, and he was almost certain that his lungs were collapsing along with it. The man everyone in Germany was on red alert for. The man that every German man, woman, and child feared currently was standing right in front of him. Armed and ready to attack at any given second.

Bahnsen's body began to quake with anxiety and lifted his shaky arm quickly to shoot. With his current shakiness, the bullet ended up going over Buckley's shoulder and landed in the bush he had been hiding in. The American looked back at where the gun had fired, stared back at the Gestapo major with his dead, hollow eyes, then snapped his pistol up and shot Bahnsen in the chest. The major fell off the ledge down onto the ground he had just been standing on, dead instantly. But that was not enough for Buckley. He wanted this man to suffer. To be beaten and abused as he was back at his former POW camp. To die just as brutally as his twin brother had when his deceased camp kommandant ordered the Gestapo to murder him in front of the captain's eyes.

Buckley glared down at the major's body before bolting down the hill. "You no good, God forsaken Kraut!"

Hearing the commotion from behind her, Kalina looked down from the hill, saw Buckley charging for Bahnsen's body, and let out a silent gasp. It was him, she thought to herself. It was Captain Buckley in the walking flesh. They finally had a face to the name and if he looked like anything from what she was seeing way above ground, it was creepy and dead. Buckley did not look like a person. He looked like something that remained once a soul left a body. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing to him.

As she was about to turn around and continue walking to safety, Hogan appeared in her mind. He was healthy, smiling, and talking. He gave her that kind, gentle smile he always had on his face and reminded her of his final orders.

'_You get him safely to London for me. No matter what the others tell you_," he said, with a wink. Hogan was soon gone, and Kalina's eyes narrowed with determination. She was not going back on Hogan. She vowed to him to follow every wish and command of his no matter what, and she was not breaking that promise to him now. Not when it mattered most. Not after everything he had done for her and her friends. She let out a deep breath of air and dashed back to the bottom of the hill.

Buckley stood inches away from Bahnsen's body and gnarled his teeth. He raised his gun high over his head and about to swing it down onto the major's head, when Kalina leaped onto his back and tried grabbing the gun out of his hand. Buckley flung his right arm out and shook the girl off of him. He made his way over to her as she shook her head and jumped back onto him. They squabbled over the gun for a few moments before he slammed Kalina down underneath his body. She flinched at the force and immense pressure on her tiny form, but somehow managed to crawl back onto his back. She banged his muscular arm with her tiny fist to try and get him to drop the weapon, but Buckley continued to try and fling her off.

The captain tripped over Bahnsen's lifeless form, sending both him and Kalina crashing to the ground. The little Klink struggled to get back up, bruised and sore all over, but managed one last lunge for Buckley. He took his gun and whacked her in the stomach, sending her to the ground and landed on a large, smooth rock near the edge of the forest.

Sensing something was wrong, Thomason looked down from where he was and saw Buckley hovering over Kalina ready to kill. His jaw dropped and momentarily debated following the others instead of face the insane captain. His cowardice immediately melted away when he saw the younger officer pull out his gun and point it at the little teenager.

Kalina tried to get back up, but her body was too beaten and exhausted to fight anymore. She tried to catch her breath and fight through the immense pain she felt all over, when she heard Buckley's gun cocked. She managed to open her eyes and lift her head to the man. Nothing. Absolutely nothing inside him anymore. Buckley was gone. All that was left was a sociopath willing to kill anyone that he found an enemy. Not even Hogan would have been able to deny that fact if he was there now. Boy, did she sure _wish_ he was, though. Knowing she was about to die, she felt tears stream down her face as she thought of her father, realizing that she would never see him again after this. His sweet blue eyes, his contagious smile, his warm hugs that made her feel safe from everything in the world. She wanted him with everything she had at that moment. She wanted her papa.

The little Klink closed her eyes and silently sobbed as Thomason came running down the hill and lunged himself on top of Buckley's back. The captain tried to shove him off, but it was difficult now that it was someone his own size. Thomason tried pulling his arms behind him and yanked the back of his hair as hard as he could. Buckley screamed out in pain and elbowed Thomason off of him. The colonel landed against the edge of the hill and ran up it to trail Buckley away from Kalina. The two officers swung fists at one another, Thomason managing to get a few shots at the captain's face. Buckley got a swing in and knocked Thomason to the ground with an 'oof'. The colonel got back to his feet, kicked the captain in the shin, then swung another punch at his cheek and raced up the hill further, Buckley on his tail.

Once on the ledge overlooking the waterfall, the two officers again tried swinging their fists at one another. Both continued to miss one another, when Buckley took his fist and whacked Thomason in the stomach. He fell and rolled on the ground with a 'oompf'. He took a minute to get back to his feet, but jumped back onto the captain's back and roughed him by the shoulders a bit before yanking Buckley's ear back. The captain screeched in agony and shoved Thomason off of him, sending the colonel nearly over the edge. He grabbed onto the ledge and could feel his legs swinging over the 50 foot drop into the icy cold water below. He tried to pull himself back up, but failed miserably.

Buckley slowly walked towards where Thomason was holding on for dear life. He put his boots right up to the colonel's hands, like he was ready to kick him off into the watery grave below him. Thomason grunted and whimpered, struggling to get back up onto the ledge. His yelps made their way up to where Kinch and the others were. LeBeau turned around at the sound, felt his eyes widen at the sight down below, then pulled his gun out and made a run back down for the cliff side.

Kinch looked back to see what all the commotion was, spotted Buckley hovering over his commander, then pulled out his pistol and attempted to shoot Buckley down. His shots were poor due to the lack of light and far distance between them. As he continued to fire his gun, Carter ran to the other end of the hill and fired at the captain, while Thomason continued to grunt and squeal as he felt his fingers slowly slipping off the ledge.

Kinch fired his last round of ammo and grew frustrated when he realized his gun was empty. He chucked it to the left and ran to Newkirk, who was at the moment just standing there watching in shock. The sergeant tried grabbing the gun out of his friend's hand, but he pulled back on the weapon.

"Give me it," Kinch ordered.

"Let it go!" Newkirk remarked.

"Give me it!"

"Let go!"

Newkirk yanked the gun out of Kinch's grasp, cocked the gun, then aimed it at Buckley, using Kinch's shoulder to steady his shaky hand. As Thomason struggled for his life and LeBeau was on his way to attack Buckley, the Englishman gulped and hesitated to fire. One wrong shot, and he could send Thomason down to his death. His body began to shake and tried to find the right time to fire.

"Shoot," Kinch said. "Shoot, Newkirk, shoot!"

Newkirk closed his eyes and looked away as he slowly squeezed the trigger. The gun fired and sent the shadowy figure standing over Thomason falling off the ledge and down the waterfall. Newkirk opened his eyes little by little until he saw his job well done. He felt his jaw drop and heart skip a beat as Kinch spoke.

"You got him...Newkirk, you got him!"

"Oh boy, was that a great shot or what?!" Carter cheered, joining the duo.

The corporal's eyes rolled and collapsed to the ground with a sigh.

Kinch and Carter looked down at their unconscious friend, turned to one another sharing a look of concern, then knelt down beside Newkirk and began attempts at bringing him to. Meanwhile, LeBeau finally reached Thomason and helped the colonel back onto the ledge as he was about to let go and fall. The little Frenchman pulled him a few feet away from the waterfall, Thomason gasping for a breath of air.

"Are you alright, Colonel Thomason?" LeBeau asked.

"I'm fine," he answered, waving him off. "Get Kalina. She's hurt bad."

"_Oui, Colonel_."

LeBeau made his way down the hill to the little Klink as Thomason gulped huge breaths of air down. He was soon joined by Kinch, Carter, and Newkirk, who helped him up into a sitting position.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Thomason panted and struggled to regulate his breathing. "Buckley...gun...tried...killing…" the colonel gulped another breath of air into his deflated lungs.

"Easy, Sir, easy there," Kinch said, putting a hand on Thomason's shoulder. "It's alright now. Bahnsen's dead, so is Buckley. It's over, Colonel. It's all over now."

"I just, I just...I just wanted him to drop the gun."

"We know, Colonel. We know, it's alright," Newkirk said sincerely.

"Water," Thomason panted. "I need...water."

Carter pulled a caintain from underneath his leather jacket, unscrewed the cap, and handed his commander the heavenly beverage. Thomason took it gratefully and gulped large amounts of water down his sandpaper like throat. He finally pulled away the caintain, wiped his mouth, then handed it back to Carter.

"Thank you, Sergeant," he said.

Two sets of footsteps slowly approached, and LeBeau came up the hill with an arm wrapped around Kalina's tiny shoulders. She looked as worn and defeated as Thomason appeared.

"Aw Kalina, are you okay, kiddo?" Kinch asked, making his way to the small girl and bringing her into his arms.

Kalina slowly nodded, shuddered, then shook her head.

"It's alright, kiddo. It's alright," Kinch said, gently rubbing her back.

Kalina sniffled. "I couldn't save him," she whimpered. "Colonel Hogan wanted him alive, and I couldn't save him."

"It's alright. It's alright. Colonel Hogan would've understood what happened...but if you ever do something that stupid again, I'll order him to strike lightning down on you, got it?"

"Easy on her, Sergeant Kinchloe," Thomason said, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Don't get upset with her...she was being loyal to your Colonel Hogan."

Newkirk walked over to Kinch and Kalina and gently picked the teenager up into his arms. He took his blue jacket, wrapped it around her like a blanket, then held her close to him and told Kalina to close her eyes and just rest.

Kinch let out a soft sigh before turning to all of them. "Come on, guys," he said. "Let's go home."

Carter and LeBeau placed one of Thomason's arms around their shoulders and helped him limp back to camp. He grimaced with each step he took, but the six made their way back down the hill and home to Stalag 13.

* * *

(_Two weeks later…_)

Thomason suffered minor burns and bruising in his abdomen, shoulders, and tibia. He walked with a nasty limp for a few days and had told Klink he had fallen from his bunk during the middle of the night. Kalina suffered minor burns as well along with bruising on her back, abdomen, and collar bone. Both Bahnsen and Buckley had done a major number on the two of them, and Wilson had said they were damn lucky Buckley had not hit them any harder. Had Kalina landed with anymore force on the rock and had Buckley hit Thomason any harder with his gun, both of them could have suffered extensive internal injuries requiring emergency surgery to repair. The little teenager's excuse had been Bahnsen barged into her room the night he died, slammed her around demanding her to confess she was a traitor to Germany, then marched out of camp when she continued to say otherwise.

It had been two weeks now from that night, and things were settling down for the most part. Thomason and Kalina had recovered from their injuries for the most part, LeBeau was still set on getting revenge for the tattoo Newkirk had given him, and Hochstetter had gone back to Headquarters now that Buckley was dead.

While everyone was scattered out and doing their own thing, the door to barracks two opened, and Kinch stepped inside grinning with a familiar face walking beside him. In his Army Air Corps uniform standing strong and healthy was Colonel Robert Hogan himself. He had woken up from unconsciousness right as Klaussner was about to turn off life support on him, but the colonel told the doctor he wanted to surprise everyone with his return. Earlier that morning, Klink and Kinch had gone to the hospital thinking they were going to discuss final arrangements for Hogan's return to the States only to be shocked with the exact opposite.

"It's good to have you back, Colonel," the radioman said sincerely.

"I'm glad to _be_ back, Kinch," Hogan answered fluently. It was as if his stroke had never occurred to begin with.

"I'm _still_ trying to figure out how that seizure managed to reverse your stroke after-effects."

Hogan smirked. "Believe me, I think Richard's gonna spend the rest of his medical career wondering the same thing."

The two laughed and were about to start a new conversation, when the fake bunk opened and exposed the tunnel entrance. Thomason leaped out into the barracks with a loud wail.

"Oh! Rats," he exclaimed. "Filthy vermin!" He ran right passed Hogan and Kinch and out the door screaming bloody murder.

The duo looked off in the direction the young colonel had run off in, Hogan turning his attention back to Kinch with a puzzled expression to his face. The sergeant shook his head, his eyes explaining everything. _I haven't the slightest idea, Sir_, they read. Hogan pursed his lips in response as Carter stuck out his head from below the ground and looked in the direction Thomason had run in.

"He's not a rat, he's a _mouse_!" Carter claimed, with offense. "And his name is Felix!"

"Let me guess," Kinch said, crossing his arms. "Thomason isn't a pet person, is he."

"Well he was fine when I showed him Irving," he said, referring to his pet frog. "It was Felix that made him act out like that."

Hogan smirked. "Not everyone's a rodent fan, Carter," he said.

"I guess _not_, Colonel," Carter answered nonchalantly. It took less than a second for the technical sergeant to realize what he had just said, looked up, and saw what was supposed to be his deceased commanding officer. "Colonel!" He screamed, paling as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Miss me?"

"Colonel! How, how are you, you're supposed to be, how did...how…" Hogan cut him off before he could finish his stuttering.

"Let's just say not even my doctors know."

"And you can talk! Colonel, you can talk! Colonel, you're back!"

Hogan chuckled. "And I never thought I'd say this: I'm glad to be back at Stalag 13," he said sincerely.

"Oh boy, Colonel, if it weren't disrespectful, I'd hug you right now, Sir!" Carter cheered.

Hogan shook his head while a wide grin was plastered on his face. He held his arms out. "Come here, Carter," he said.

The technical sergeant sprinted towards the officer and wrapped his arms tight around Hogan as if he were reuniting with his father. Hogan gave an 'oompf', then chuckled and patted Carter's shoulder. "Easy, Carter," he said. "Don't exactly gain your strength back right away after having a major seizure."

"You got it, boy! I mean Sir."

Hogan's grin brightened, when Newkirk crawled up from underneath the tunnels looking completely exasperated. "Alright, Louis, I've just about had it here. You win, where the bloody hell are you?!"

As if by command, LeBeau popped his head up from below the ground and gave his fellow corporal an irritated look. "Why don't you look right in front of you? I've been hiding behind the ladder the whole time," he remarked, climbing over the bunk and closing the tunnel entrance.

"You think my vision is 20-20 down there?" Newkirk asked.

"Get some glasses then, _Monsieur _Crabby pants."

"I'll stay crabby until this blue hair of mine grows out."

"And I will stay crabby until your _honteux_ tattoo comes off." (1)

"You two _still_ having this fight with each other?" Hogan asked, wrapping his arms around himself.

The two corporals shot their eyes to the door, saw the colonel standing there, then both screamed and jumped back a few feet. It got a soft smirk out of Hogan in response.

"Co, Co, Co…" Newkirk stammered.

"_Sacré chats_!" LeBeau exclaimed. "It cannot be!"

"Colonel, is it you, Sir?"

"Certainly isn't General Patton if that's what you're thinking," Hogan answered, wearing his famous lopsided grin.

"You can _talk_!" LeBeau gasped.

"I think we've established that already, Louis," Kinch said.

"But how? We were told you were brain dead, Sir," Newkirk answered.

"As Richard told me himself, the human body can work in mysterious ways sometimes," Hogan said.

"A bloody _miracle's_ what it is."

"Does that mean you're here to stay, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

Hogan gave a warm smile in response. "Yes, LeBeau, I'm here to stay." He replied sincerely.

As everyone was about to surround Hogan and welcome him home with pats on the back and a bunch of stories, the door to barracks two again opened, and little Kalina came barreling in with red, wet eyes. She stood in front of the colonel and Kinch and cried uncontrollably.

"Little mate," Newkirk said, he, LeBeau, and Carter all running to her. "What's wrong?"

"It's gone! It's gone, he's gone, I lost him!" She sobbed.

"_What's_ gone, _ma petite ami_?" LeBeau asked.

"Colonel Hogan's jacket! Someone stole it from me. It's gone, he's gone, I lost Colonel Hogan!" She hyperventilated and resumed sobbing hysterically.

"No, he's not," Newkirk said firmly. "No, he's not. He's right there." He continued, pointing to Kalina's heart.

"Colonel Hogan will _never_ leave us. He is with us in spirit." LeBeau added.

"Colonel Hogan," Kalina cried. "I want Colonel Hogan!"

Standing behind her in silence, Hogan felt his heart break in two as he listened to the little teenager's cries. He hated knowing she was hurting so much because of losing him. He swallowed a lump in his throat as Newkirk resumed speaking.

"Aw, little mate, don't cry."

"Colonel Hogan wouldn't want you to cry, little buddy," Carter said.

"He'll never know, he'll never know how much I loved him." Kalina wept.

"He knew, _ma petite_," LeBeau said, before looking up at Hogan. "He _still_ knows."

"I want Colonel Hogan...I want Colonel Hogaaaaan!"

"Alright then," Newkirk said. "The wish is granted."

Kalina sniffled, starting to calm down a bit, and looked up at the Englishman with her wet, confused eyes. "What?" She whimpered.

"I said your wish is granted," he answered her. "You can have Colonel Hogan."

Kalina looked at Newkirk completely dumbfounded. Either the man was having an aneurysm, or he had gone around the loony bin as the Allies put it. She sniffled again. "Newkirk, I think _you're_ having a stroke," she said, meek.

"Just turn around," he told her bluntly.

Kalina raised her eyebrow at him as if he had just grown a second head, but complied and slowly turned to face what was behind her. Her jaw dropped from its hinges the minute she lay sight on the person standing beside Kinch.

Hogan smiled wide, his brown eyes twinkling with glee. "And you thought you could get rid of me that easily," he said.

The little Klink felt the burning tears return to her eyes and bolted for Hogan. She wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could, buried her face into his belly, and let out her heavy sobs. The colonel hugged her close and hushed her a few times. He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head, then gently rubbed the back of it.

"I love you, Colonel Hogan." She cried. She got another kiss on the head, then lifted her eyes towards his. Hogan gave her a warm grin and winked at her in response.

Kalina lay her head back against Hogan's belly as he resumed rubbing her head. Her crying was slowly calming, felt a small smile make its way to her face, then nestled her face into the colonel as Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau looked on with smiles of their own.

"I love a happy endin'," Newkirk said, his blue eyes twinkling bright.

"_Oui. Moi aussi_," LeBeau said, in agreement.

"Well, I say we celebrate, what do you mates think?"

Kalina turned her head towards the others, spotted something glittering on the sleeve of Newkirk's jacket, and her eyes widened. "Newkirk," she croaked, still hugging Hogan. "You got a little something here." She continued, pointing to the top of her shoulder.

The Englishman looked at her befuddled for a moment, then turned his eyes downward to his jacket sleeve, and his eyes bulged from their sockets. Bedazzled to his issued military jacket was the French flag, and he instantly knew who was behind the crime. Forgetting all about Hogan's homecoming, Newkirk let out a steamy breath of air through his nose, resembling a bull ready to charge. "LOUIS!" He hollered.

"_Au revoir_," LeBeau said, and dashed out of the barracks.

"Boy, wait till I get me hands on you," Newkirk gnarled, chasing after the Frenchman. "How about I bedazzle Ol' Winnie's face right on your forehead!"

As the two corporals became out of sight and hearing range, Kinch let out a heavy sigh. "That did it," he said, grabbing a cleaning bottle that was hanging on his belt. "I'm gonna end this once and for all."

"What's in _there_, Kinch?" Carter asked, causing the radioman to pause in front of the doorway.

"Something I've been working on in your lab for a week now," Kinch answered, leaning in from outside. "Skunk spray scented cologne. They'll be scrubbing themselves in the shower for three days after a couple sprays of this. Wish me luck."

Kinch's voice vanished just as a new voice could be heard bellowing across the compound. It was Klink.

"Schultz!" Hogan, Kalina, and Carter could hear. "What is this colonel doing on top of the roof?"

Hogan and Kalina turned to look at one another, then tried to peak out one of the windows to see what was going on outside.

The young sergeant in front of them rubbed the back of his neck in awkward silence before he finally broke the quiet atmosphere around them. "So…" he began. "Anyone want ice cream?"

It did not take Kalina long to smile wide and nod eagerly. Hogan merely gave a silent laugh. He was home. At long last, he was finally home.

* * *

(1) _H__onteux _\- shameful


End file.
